Avery White - Year One
by CrazyPandaHobbit
Summary: Avery White is a half-blood who is desperately excited when she receives her letter. At Hogwarts, she joins the trio as they discover secrets about the Philosopher's Stone (Book-verse). I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER! No OC x Anyone
1. Chapter 1

**SO! New Story! I took down my LotR one because I didn't like the direction it was going in. I plan to upload the entirety of this one, and the rest in the series, before focusing on any other fandoms. So, without any further ado, here is the first chapter of Avery White - Year One!**

**Remember to drop a review if you enjoyed, if you feel like it could be improved. I accept criticism, even flames if you want, although they will be used to toast marshmallows.**

**Enjoy!**

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I yawn, stretching and yelping as my hand collides with the headboard behind me. Checking the clock, I notice that it's 2:24 in the morning and sigh. I have one more day of primary school left. It seems strange – a half-blood witch going to a muggle primary school, but Mum told me I would have to go anyway to get some basic knowledge. So far, I haven't let any magic slip, nor told anyone. And today will be especially amazing. Our teacher, Miss Oliver, told us a few days ago that our end of year activity would be something that you need a swimming costume for... I can't wait!

Across the room from me is my twin sister, Laura. She's two years older than me, having just finished her second year at Hogwarts. She's snoring away, so very quietly I grab my charcoal pencil and pad (Dad doesn't trust me with a quill and ink yet – I can't blame him) and sketch for a few hours. I pride myself on a few things; my intelligence, my ability to make friends, my photographic memory, and my artistic skills. I sketch an owl, my dream owl, which is a black long-eared owl. I finish just as my parent's alarm clock goes off. Titling it 'Sooty', I slide the drawing into my folder and sit up against the bed frame, waiting for Mum and Dad to come wake us up. Sure enough, five minutes later, Mum staggers into the room looking shattered.

"Time to g-g-get up, girls," a yawn interrupts her. I grin and slide out of bed, grabbing clean clothes and getting changed, before leaping downstairs to breakfast. "Post for you Avery," Dad calls, holding out several letters. I take them from his outstretched hand and sit down at the breakfast table, opening the first. It's a postcard from Spain, where my friend Lisa is on holiday. The lucky person managed to escape the horrors of the last week of the summer term. The second is my weekly subscription to Which Broomstick? and the third is made of parchment. I slide my fingers under the wax sealing, knowing what I'm going to find.

"Muuuum! MUUUUUUMMM! **MUUUUUUUUUUUUUMMMMMM!**" I shriek excitedly, "MY HOGWARTS LETTER'S HERE!"

"**COMING!**" She hollers down the stairs. I turn back to my letter, reading it jovially.

_Dear Miss White,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.  
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

_Yours sincerely,  
Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress_

Digging into the envelope again, I pull out an equipment list and a train ticket. Staring at the calendar, I remember that it's July 28. "Can I send Brenna?" I ask Dad, who was reading over my shoulder. Brenna is the family owl. She's a barn owl, and very reliable. Dad nods, so I run upstairs and grab my charcoal pencil and a sheet of parchment, writing a quick note.

_I have received your note and will be attending Hogwarts School on September 1._

Then, using a piece of string, I tie the note carefully onto Brenna's leg, and she flies out the window. After that, I shoot downstairs and speed-eat my breakfast, giving myself hiccups.

"Have a good day Avery!" Mum calls as I grab my bag and swimming costume and unlock the chain on the door.

"I – hic! - will!" I call back. I force the shed open and grab my bike, cycling to school. On the way, I spot Eleanor and cycle over to her, seeing as she's also cycling.

"I'm so excited!" Eleanor grins, speeding up in her haste. I put my bike on a lower gear and push to keep up with her. "I can't wait – Miss Oliver said that we were doing something really fun today – I want to know what it is! Especially since she said that it involves a swimming costume!"

I nod, slowing down as we approach the school gates. We have a strict caretaker, Mr Bruce, who shouts at anyone who rides too fast over school property. Eleanor seems to remember this at the last moment' she swerves and crashes into a tree.

"Ohhhh... I need to be more careful," she groans as I collapse on the floor in laughter, tears streaming down my cheeks.

After a minute or so, she glares at me. "OKAY! Enough! It wasn't that funny!"

I snort and giggle, but pull myself together. We wheel our bikes into the grounds and choose a pen to store them in. At our school, we have small cubicles to store bikes/scooters in. There are unique keys on rubber bracelets for each cubicle, ensuring a safe method of storing your bike. After, we race each other to the classroom, just as Miss Oliver opens the door to let everyone in.

"You're in a rush, girls," she comments, smiling at us as we pant.

"I... wanted to know... what... thing we're doing," Eleanor gasps. I laugh through deep breaths.

"Well, I'll tell you in a minute! Now come inside," Miss Oliver lets us in, and we hang up our bags and sidle into the classroom. Choosing seats next to eachother, Eleanor and I wait for everyone to come in. Eventually, Miss Oliver gets everyone calm. "Now, I told you yesterday that we'd do something fun-" Miss Oliver begins, but is cut off by the excited chatter "-SETTLE DOWN! I told you we'd do something fun, and that that something involves a swimming costume. That thing is..."

Everyone tenses in suspense...

"Rafting!" she grins. There is uproar as everybody cheers excitedly. "We'll walk down to the lakes in ten minutes, so everybody stand up and line up outside!"

I grin and slide my bag onto my shoulder, lining up behind Eleanor and in front of another friend, Lucy. The class files through the door and we begin to walk. The journey doesn't take that long on foot, and time seems to pass extra-quickly due to our excitement. By the time we reach the lakes, everyone is hyper and practically bouncing off each other. Miss Oliver speaks to a man in a wetsuit for a minute, who gets us to sit down. "I want you to get into height order, shortest over here," the man motions to one side, "and tallest over here." He motions to the other side. I stand up and walk towards the centre, not really short or tall.

As a class, we're pretty good at this sort of thing, and we're done in less than thirty seconds. The man nods, checking the line, and starts handing out wetsuits. As soon as we're handed one, we are allowed to go and change. I slip into a cubicle and pull my uniform off, sliding into my swimming costume and the advised thick socks, leggings and long-sleeved shirt. The wetsuit is a bit harder to get into. As the name suggests, the suit is wet from recent use, and it smells of murky water. Cringing, I stifle yelps as the cold damp material settles around my form and walk out, all my clean clothes in my bag along with a towel.

"Put these shoes on," the man says to me, holding out some black and red beach shoes, also damp. I wriggle into them and walk to the area where everyone who's changed stands. Miss Oliver waits until everyone is changed before separating us into groups of five. I am with Eleanor, Lucy, and two boys named Tom and Billy. The man puts a pile of life jackets in front of us – he calls them buoyancy (**AN: I hate that word -_-**) aids. We help each other zip them up and then our group is led to the raft. Or rather what should be the raft. "You must build a raft using the barrels of air, the logs, and the rope. It must be strong enough to carry five of you across the lake and back without collapsing. If it collapses, you must swim back with the materials, which float. Good luck."

I grin and start tying the materials together with the group, creating a satisfactory raft. Miss Oliver comes over with some spare rope, handing one length out to each group. The rope she gives us is extremely helpful, and before long we have our oars and helmets and we are ready to sail. The man and a few helpers carry the raft out into the lake, so far that we have to swim to reach it. Tom, Billy and Lucy hang back at the edge of the water, but Eleanor and I run straight in. The water laps around my ankles, before rising to my calves. My knees freeze slowly as the water continues to get deeper until it reaches my waist. At this point, I start jumping in the water to go faster.

The water circles around my chest as I begin to swim. I find that my breathing gets shallower and heavier as my lungs contract due to cold, but after a couple of seconds, it eases as I get used to the temperature.

I reach the raft first and climb onto the front, laughing joyfully as I see the rest of my group nearly here and the rest of the class still struggling to build their rafts. Eleanor climbs up next to me on the front-left side, Lucy sits in the middle and the boys sit at the back. We begin to paddle towards the far side of the lake, quickly working out a rhythm to ensure maximum speed. We make it to the end relatively soon, but the turning around is a slight problem. As we nudge it round, it gets stuck in reeds. I slide off and attempt to pull it out, but I only succeed in getting my leg stuck, with reeds knotted all the way up to my knee.

"Hold on," Tom grins, jumping off and pulling the raft out. Lucy and Eleanor lift me back onto the raft, pulling my leg out. We finish the turn and speed off to the end. In fact, I think we go so fast that the raft decides it doesn't want to continue, and it breaks apart about thirty metres from shallow waters. We all tumble into the freezing water, our paddles still balanced on the surface. Kicking up to the surface, I mount a barrel and paddle to a log, sliding it across my lap and paddling to Eleanor who is struggling onto a barrel herself. Grabbing her arm, I help her straddle the barrel and pick up a log herself, before knotting two lengths of rope together and tying two logs onto the ends of our barrels. We help Lucy mount a barrel and tie some logs down and then paddle off, seeing as the boys have the last few logs under control. The water no longer feels as cold around my ankles as we enter shallow water. With the waves rocking the barrels around, it feels like I'm on a very cold wet horse, and after a minute or so my legs begin to ache. The bobbing in the water doesn't help this feeling, and before long I slip off into the water. My feet still don't touch the floor, even in the shallow water, but I swim forwards, clinging onto the barrel, paddle and logs to stop them floating away.

It turns out that our group had the best raft – everyone else collapsed theirs further away from shore. We stagger onto the bank, our fun on the rafts over. "You must now go and change. Take off your buoyancy aids, shoes, helmets and wetsuits here, and go to change."

I unclip the helmet and aid and help Lucy unzip her aid, before wriggling out of the shoes and wetsuit. The feeling of the thick wet fabric peeling off my skin is odd and it tickles slightly. I don't enjoy the feeling and struggle to get it off faster.

Back in my cubicle, I strip off my wet clothes and swimming costume and dry myself off, before standing on my towel and squirming back into my underwear, black skirt, white blouse and navy blue sweatshirt. My socks are even harder to get on, and I have to wrench them up past my ankles in order to slide into my shoes.

Finally, I wring and dry my hair, before brushing and plaiting it to keep it out of my face. My wet clothes go inside the towel and the bundle gets shoved into my bag, before I meet up with the rest of the class to walk back to school. We're all really tired and the journey takes a lot longer, but still, we get back to the school soon.

As we enter the classroom, the bell goes off. Miss Oliver smiles and wishes us the best in our future lives, before sending us off to go home for the last time. I walk to the bike shed, taking one last long look at my primary school, before mounting my bike and cycling off on my own, as Eleanor is getting a lift from her parents, whose car is big enough to fit her bike in. I whiz down the quiet lanes towards home, savouring the feeling of the wind in my damp hair.

Mum is waiting for me when I get back. "What did you do?" she asks.

"Rafting in the lakes," I reply, grinning and stowing my bike away. She laughs, ushering me into the house.

I wander through the house and into the back garden, where Laura greets me from the pool. Our garden is pretty big, so our parents had a pool installed a few years back. The cool inviting water waits for me as I run upstairs to grab my spare swimming costume, since my other one is full of lake water, and an old t-shirt. As I change, I think about what I'll need for Hogwarts, besides the required list of equipment. My drawing stuff would be useful.

I run back downstairs in my swimming costume and t-shirt and grab the goggles that Dad dug out for me a few weeks ago, before shooting into the garden. "Dive bomb!" Laura encourages me. I grin, pulling the goggles over my eyes and backing up. _3...2...1...GOOO!_ I sprint forwards and bomb the pool. Spluttering, I swim up next to a very splashed Laura, who looks both impressed and disgruntled.

We swim around, playing multiple games in the water. Mum and Dad join us after half an hour, and we laze around in the pool until dinner. Dad orders pizza and we sit on the edge of the pool munching away. "We'll go to Diagon Alley next week-end," Mum smiles to us, "By which time Laura should have her letter as well." I nod, mouth full.

After around half an hour of waiting for my dinner to go down, I grab an inflatable broomstick from the shed and sit on it, paddling around as though I'm a Quidditch player. It's fun, but before long, Mum calls me in for a shower. I slip out of the pool and grab a towel before carefully making my way upstairs to the bathroom.

After making sure that the door is firmly shut and locked, I peel off the t-shirt and costume and climb into the shower, basking in the cool water. The water washes all dirt and soap off me as I scrub, occasionally spluttering as the water goes up my nose. Eventually, I go to bed once my dark brown hair is dry, long after I'm supposed to since I get distracted whilst drawing. When I do settle down however, I fall asleep as soon as my eyes shut.


	2. Chapter 2

**A new chapter! *gasps* I don't want you guys to have to wait for all the good stuff in the books, so I plan on updating every other day. That'll probably be broken on the first four chapters, but I will try my hardest. Also, I have exams from Monday 5th May to Friday 9th May, and every day will have to include revision for three subjects, so forgive me if the chapters aren't very good.**

**Thanks to **September And Summer **for reviewing and following! And yeah - I wasn't sure how much old life to put in, but this seems to be enough.**

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The week leading up to Diagon Alley takes forevverrrrr! I was soooo boooorrrrrreeeeeeedddddd! My drawing pad's completely full with drawings of stuff that I had to cycle to town and buy three new ones for Hogwarts and a single one for the rest of the summer holidays.

"Are you ready girls?" Dad calls us. I flinch and leap up, grabbing my boots and pulling them on, before forcing a brush through my long brown hair. It's usually straight, but I didn't brush or dry it properly after the shower I had last night. Ergo, it's painful.

I dash downstairs, tripping on the last one and slamming into Dad, who steadies me. "I'm ready!" I say cheerfully. Dad rolls his eyes, before ushering me into the kitchen. "We're going to Apparate," Mum explains. I groan. I HATE Side-Along Apparition. It makes me feel sick.

"I'll take Laura. Avery, you'll go with Mum," Dad decides. I nod, grasping Mum's arm. Laura does the same, and with a loud crack they disappear. Mum smiles at me, and I feel a tug. Grasping onto her arm tighter (probably cutting off the blood supply) as I see the world flash around me. Suddenly, we arrive in the Leaky Cauldron. Very few witches and wizards are here. I recognise Tom the Innkeeper.

"Just passing through? Or would you like a drink?" Tom asks brightly.

"Not right now, Tom. We'll come back later, though," Dad replies.

"You just missed Hagrid. He passed through here with Harry Potter about ten minutes ago!" Tom grins. I gasp inwardly. _I could see Harry Potter! No, forget 'see'... I could MEET Harry Potter!_ I must have an awestruck look, because everyone's laughing at me. I blush, and follow Laura out to the back. Dad brings his wand out and taps the wall. The last brick he touches quivers, moving aside to form a large hole. The hole grows, until it forms an archway in the wall.

The bustling Diagon Alley is revealed behind it. I gasp and squeal in excitement. "We'll have to go to Gringotts first," Dad decides. Mum nods, grabbing Laura's arm and guiding her through the crowds.

We come to a large white marble building. On the front, written in gold lettering is _Gringotts Wizard Bank_ . I walk up the steps and into the building, which is full of strange creatures. "Goblins..." Dad reminds us quietly. A flicker of recognition passes through my stomach as I remember Mum and Laura discussing them, which temporarily blocks out the excitement.

"We wish to make a withdrawal," Mum says loudly when we reach the front desk.

"Do you have your key?" the head Goblin asks. I ignore the rest of the conversation, distracted by a rather large man leading a small boy. The boy is obviously our age, with glasses, messy black hair and too-big clothes. And a small lightning scar. The boy meets my eyes. His are emerald, almond shaped. I smile at him, and he smiles back.

"Come on, Avery!" Mum calls me. I wave, and dash off, in a daze I think _I just saw and smiled at Harry Potter!_ I'm so wrapped up in my thoughts that I nearly crash into Laura. "Into the cart!" Dad lifts me into the front seat, along with Laura, then he and Mum climb into the back. The Goblin starts the cart, and within seconds, I'm whooping with excitement. "It's like a really terrifyingly dangerous rollercoaster ride!" I scream to Laura, who's also yelling in joy.

It's over too soon, as we slow down, I leap out. My legs are shaking uncontrollably, but I loved every minute. The Goblin asks for our key, and Mum hands it over. The Goblin takes it and slots it into a small keyhole under a metal flap. The door slowly opens to reveal a mound of gold Galleons, silver Sickles and bronze Knuts. Mum grabs a moneybag and shovels some money in. "This is your moneybag, Avery. When we leave Gringotts, you can go and buy your things. Laura will do the same. We'll meet back at the Magical Menagerie to buy your animal," Dad smiles. I nod eagerly. Laura fills up her moneybag and our parents repeat the process. Then, we get back into the cart and head back up.

The ride back up is just as exhilarating, and when we're back out in the summer sunshine, my legs are shaking just as badly. I say goodbye to everyone, grabbing my equipment list and sprinting off. While I'm waving, looking back, I crash into a large figure.

Glancing up, I see that it's the same large man from the bank. Next to him is Harry Potter. I blush and pull myself up. "Sorry about that... I'm quite clumsy," I apologise, bright red.

"Don't worry about it," the man smiles. His beard masks the majority of his face with wild curly hair, but his beetle black eyes show kindness.

"I'm Avery," I grin.

"I'm Rubeus Hagrid – Keeper of the Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts- and this is Harry Potter," Hagrid introduces himself and Harry. Harry grins at me, shaking my hand. "I need to go get my Hogwarts stuff, I'll see you later!" I smile, about to walk off when Hagrid's huge hand stops me.

"How about yeh join Harry! I need a pick-me-up after them Gringotts carts," the giant of a man shudders, and I can see that he doesn't look very well.

I shrug and look at Harry, who smiles. "Let's go then!"

Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions is closest, so we decide to head in there first. Turns out that Madam Malkin is a squat witch dressed in full robes of mauve. "Hogwarts, dears?" she asks us, straight off the bat. When we nod nervously, she continues "Got the lot here—another young man being fitted up just now, in fact!" We look over to the back of the shop where a pale pointy-faced boy was being fitted by a second witch. Madam Malkin and a third witch point to some stools next to the pale boy. Harry chooses the one in the middle, I go for the one on the edge.

"Hullo," the boy inclines his head at us, "Hogwarts, too?"

I nod. "Yes," Harry responds.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," the boy continues in a drawling voice. I feel a slight irritation towards him. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first-years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow." My irritation grows, so I tune out of the conversation before I leap off and punch him for no reason other than a feeling.

Then, the third witch smiles and pulls the robes over my head. "You're done, my dear," she takes the robes through a door for a few minutes, before returning with a pile of clothing. "Here you are – three sets of Wizarding robes, a plain black cloak with silver fastenings, a black wizard's hat and a pair of protective dragon-hide gloves. That's eight Galleons," the witch smiles. I hand over eight gold coins and slide the clothing into a bag, waiting for Harry, who's just finished. Outside, I can see Mum and Dad talking to Hagrid.

Harry jumps off the stool and walks to the front, waiting for Madam Malkin to get back. When she does, we exit the shop together.

"I'll see you, I guess," I wave to him as he heads over to Hagrid, before walking to Mum and Dad.

"I got my robes!" I smile.

"We got your books and potions stuff. Now you need a wand and an animal," Dad nods.

We head into Ollivanders, which is eerily quiet. Our footsteps seem too loud. Our breathing seems too loud. I can hear my heart thudding in my chest. Suddenly, Mr Ollivander appears out of the gloom, making me jump. "We'd like to buy a wand for Avery," Dad says. His silver eyes focus on me, and I shift uncomfortably. He smiles a little creepily, saying "Nice to meet you, Avery."

"And you," I mumble, as he turns away, snapping his fingers at a tape measure which proceeds to measure my arm and hand at first, but continues onto strange places like the bridge of my nose, and the length of my eyes.

Mr Ollivander reappears (I never noticed he was gone!) with a box. He opens it, pulling out a wand. "Here, try this. Mahogany, with a unicorn tail hair core, eight and a half inches. Give it a wave!" I take the wand and wave it around a bit, but almost instantly, Mr Ollivander stops me and runs off again. I gingerly set the wand down and take the next one that he gives me. "Blackthorn, Phoenix feather, twelve and a quarter inches. This one is quite hard," he explains. _That's what she said,_ I think, waving the wand around a little bit. I grin excitedly as silver and gold sparks shoot from the tip in a little trail.

"This wand is perfect," Mr Ollivander declares, taking the wand and boxing it up, "That will be seven Galleons please." I hand over the money and slide my wand carefully into a bag.

As we exit the shop, Dad asks me if I would like an owl, a cat or a toad. When I reply 'owl' he asks me what kind. I shrug. "Depends on what's in the emporium." Eeylops Owl Emporium is full of animals, which is obviously the cause of the musty smell. I actually don't mind the smell, but I can tell Laura doesn't. As we walk up to the front desk, a particular owl catches my eye. He's a long eared owl, completely black, with bright yellow eyes, and is exactly how I imagined Sooty. Mum nudges me "Have you seen one you want?"

I nod "The black long-eared owl, over there – the quiet one!" I point to him, the only owl in the shop who hasn't screeched since we got in here. Mum tells this to the woman at the front desk, who merely says "Oh, you don't want _him_. He's a vicious brute."

"I don't care. If I get bitten, I get bitten," I comment dryly. She shrugs, and pulls out thick leather gloves to get him out the cage. Sure enough, the bird tries to bite her, but I notice instantly that she's gripping his feet too tightly. I take a spare glove from the side and approach. The owl flutters to my hand and sits there, quite content to relax.

"You must be really good with owls!" the woman smiles. I just transfer the owl to my other hand to prove that he's quite gentle and give the glove back.

"How much is he?" I ask, genuinely curious and desperate for the bird.

"Eight Galleons. If you want a cage, it's nine Galleons and five Sickles altogether." I pay the required amount, while Laura and Mum stroke the owl's head. He seems grateful to be out of the shop, and is all the more gentler for it. "Good choice," Dad whispers in my ear. I smile and allow him to hop into the cage, holding it gently.

"Oh, and one more thing – can I buy some owl treats for him?" I ask as an afterthought. The woman nods, hands me a packet and tells me the price. I pay, thank the woman, and carry the cage out.

"How am I going to get all of this to Hogwarts? I don't have a suitcase large enough!" I say, shocked that I've forgotten. Mum stops, surprised as well. We quickly head into a shop that sells Hogwarts suitcases and buy one, before heading back to the Leaky Cauldron. "Get ready to Apparate," Dad reminds me. I grip onto Mum's arm and hold on tight to my owl and my bags of shopping. With a crack, we Apparate back home.

I take a deep breath and swallow to pop my ears back to normal, before taking everything upstairs. Laura follows. We dump everything on my bed and relax for a minute or so, during which time Laura's owl flies in. Hers is a barn owl, aptly named Walnut. He's a bit territorial, but seems to accept my owl in without complaint.

During the night, I sit and watch my new owl clean himself in his cage. As he pulls out stray black feathers, I reach in and pull one off the bottom of the cage. _Seeing as he's exactly how I imagined Sooty, it seems like a good name for him, _I think. "Sooty..." I call softly. The owl looks up and hoots, very quietly. He seems to like it, so I stroke his head feathers and snuggle down to sleep.

**So, let me know if you enjoyed! Drop a review if you did, leave constructive criticism if you think I need it, or even leave a flame if you: a) feel it's necessary  
b) are having a bad day and need someone to take it out on. I don't mind  
or c) want me to toast some virtual marshmallows for you.**

**Bye guys!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I know I said it would be every two days, but I was so eager to get this third chapter out there and for you guys to see some Hogwarts action! Well, at least it will be the train journey. :D**

**So, I want to thank **September And Summer **for reviewing - I tried to change some of the things you find in FanFiction around to make it unique!  
Also, I want to thank my new follower and reviewer** CastielLunaWinchester** - I definitely will continue, thanks for your support! And marshmallows really are amazing, aren't they!**

**So, without any more natter, on with the story!**

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**_-_-_-_-_-_-_- SEPTEMBER 1****ST****-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_**

I wake up extremely early on the morning of September 1st. So early that it was still dark, which is VERY early during summer. I pull out some simple dark blue leggings, a light blue t-shirt, some black socks, my boots and a thin hoodie. Getting dressed, I realize that in my excitement last night, I forgot to pack for Hogwarts! Cursing quietly under my breath, I open the suitcase-trunk thing and lift my pewter cauldron in. Inside the cauldron, I place my glass and crystal phials which are carefully wrapped up in material. My telescope tucks neatly next to the trunk along with my brass scales. I grab my black messenger bag and check for any rogue items before placing it in the trunk on top of the phials. It is then that I notice the owl treats, so I pick them up and put them in the pocket of my hoodie.

Next, I grab my books and slot them in carefully one by one, ticking them off as I go. _Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1. Check. A History of Magic. Check. Magical Theory. Check. A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration. Check. One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. Check. Magical Drafts and Potions. Check. Fantastic Beasts and Where to find them. Check. The Dark Forces – A Guide to Self-Protection. Check. And finally, just for entertainment purposes... The Tales of Beedle the Bard. Check._ With all the books in the trunk, I place the uniform on top (in addition to these I pull some ordinary clothes out of the wardrobe for weekends and holidays) and grab my drawing books, quills, ink, charcoal pencils and rubbers, and parchment. These all fit in little pockets in the trunk, so it's only my wand and my potion ingredients left.

I get distracted by the wand. Instead of packing it, I sit and wave it around a bit, before noticing sunrise and putting it in the trunk. Finally, my potion ingredients kit slides into the back, by the cauldron. I shut the lid and lean on top, exhausted. Laura never told me that this would be so tiring... I think I fall asleep, because the call of Mum shakes me awake again. I dash downstairs for breakfast, but don't eat much. The butterflies in my stomach feel like I'm going to throw up.

The clock says that it's half past ten. Dad grabs my trunk and owl from upstairs, while Mum gets Laura's. We rendezvous in the kitchen, ready to Apparate. I hold Mum's arm and we disappear, through swirling colours until we reach Platform 9 and ¾. Instantly, steam fills my vision. The cloud takes a little bit of time to get used to, but eventually I notice the scarlet steam engine, the Hogwarts Express. Above me is a sign labelled Platform 9 and ¾. I grin, hauling my trunk up the platform to an empty carriage. Laura spots her friends and dashes off, leaving me to lift it onto the train. I grimace as I heave it, but eventually I manage.

I can't be bothered to find a carriage yet, and there's only a few minutes left until the train leaves, so I hop off and run to Mum and Dad. "Be good," they chorus. I grin and nod.

"Am I coming back for Easter and Christmas?" I ask. Laura had told me a little about the holidays at Hogwarts.

"We don't know yet – we'll send Brenna with our message," Mum replies. I nod, and hug them.

"Love you both. See you soon – possibly Christmas, possibly Easter. Not sure which," I mumble. Mum nods and Dad smiles as I back away and leap onto the train. The whistle blows to tell us to get ready, and I hang out the window. Laura is saying her goodbyes, but then she jumps on as well. We hang out the window to say goodbye.

The fog intensifies as the train starts to move. I nearly fall over, but grab onto the window and hold on. Mum and Dad's silhouettes wave, so we wave back, calling out to them.

And then, the train rounds the corner, and we lose sight of them. I pull back into the train corridor and grab my trunk and the cage containing Sooty, walking down the corridor. As I keep walking, I get more and more depressed. Everywhere seems to be full. But then, I spot what looks like an empty carriage. Empty except for Harry!

I grin and pull the compartment door open. Harry jumps and looks up from the window, but smiles when he sees me. "Can I sit in here? Everywhere else is full," I ask. When he nods, I thank him and heave my trunk into the carriage along with Sooty's cage. I do however let the poor owl out, seeing as he's been cooped up for ages.

He instantly goes for the owl treats. I laugh and pull one out of the bag, handing it to him. Sooty snatches it in his beak and balances on the top of his cage to eat it and nap.

"Anyone sitting there? Everywhere else is full..." a quiet voice from the door makes me look up. A red headed boy is standing by the door, looking embarrassed. Harry shakes his head, and the boy sits down. I note that he has a black smudge on his nose and grin.

"Hey Ron."

Two ginger twins, I'm assuming they're 'Ron's brothers, stick their heads through the door.

"Listen, we're going down to the middle of the train – Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there," they smirk at mine and Ron's shudder. "Take it you don't like spiders?"

"_God_ no. I hate the things," I frown.

"Oh well. Nice to meet you..."

"Avery. I'm Avery White," I smile. They nod.

"Hi. Harry, did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. See you later then," Fred and George slide the compartment door shut.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" Ron blurts out. I laugh as he blushes a little. Harry nods. "Oh – well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George's jokes. And have you really got – you know..." Ron trails off, sufficing by pointing at Harry's forehead.

Harry pulls his fringe back to reveal his scar. Ron stares. "So that's where You-Know-Who-"

"Yes, but I can't remember it," Harry says.

"Nothing?" Ron asks eagerly. I tune out, instead stroking Sooty, who opens one bleary eye and hoots, before returning to sleep. Harry and Ron continue their conversation. Every so often, I input my thoughts, but aside from that, I gaze out the window, looking at the scenery. After about ten minutes of the boys talking, a smiling woman slides back the door and asks us "Anything off the cart, dears?" I jump up, pulling some money out of my trunk and buying some Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, some Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, some Chocolate Frogs, a Sugar Quill, and a Pumpkin Pasty.

Harry buys a load of stuff, a bit of everything, and tips it all onto the table in the middle of the compartment. I stash away the stuff I bought. "Hungry are you?" Ron asks Harry in amazement.

"Starving," Harry mumbles through a bite of Pumpkin Pasty. Ron shrugs and takes out a lumpy package containing four sandwiches. "She always forgets I don't like corned beef."

"Swap you for one of these," Harry holds out a Pasty, "Go on— "

"You don't wan't thi-" Ron begins, but I take the Pasty Harry was holding and shove it in his mouth. He drops the sandwiches in order to catch the Pasty and munches appreciatively.

"What are these?" Harry asks, holding up a Chocolate Frog, "They're not really frogs, are they?"

"No, but see what the card is. I'm missing Agrippa," Ron answers. When Harry looks confused, I explain. "The frogs aren't really frogs, no. But each packet has a card in, of a famous witch or wizard. I'm guessing that Ron collects them and is missing Agrippa."

"And Ptolemy," Ron inputs, grinning. I grab a frog from the pile and open it, just as Harry exclaims loudly "So this is Dumbledore!"

"Don't tell me you've never heard of Dumbledore!" said Ron incredulously, before "Can I have a frog? I might get Agrippa – Thanks!"

A minute later "No, I've got Morgana again and I've got about six of her... do you want it? You can start collecting."

I open my frog and eat it before turning to the card. A slight gasp escapes me as I look down on Ptolemy. "Hey Ron?"

"Yeah?" Ron looks up through a mouthful of chocolate.

"You know you wanted Ptolemy?" I ask. When he nods, I pick up the card and hand it to him. His mouth falls open in shock.

"How did you... Thanks Avery!" he grins broadly, tucking the card inside his trunk. As an afterthought, he adds "What about you? Don't you want it?"

"Nah. I don't collect them," I say absentmindedly. I'm a bit too busy to say anything else because I've just opened a packet of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum. Harry kept adding to his collection of frog cards whilst I try to blow the biggest gum bubble possible. It doesn't work very well, and I just end up very sticky.

I get distracted by Harry opening a packet of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. "You want to be careful with those," both Ron and I say at the same time.

"When they say every flavour, they mean every flavour—you know, you get the ordinary ones like chocolate and peppermint and marmalade, but then you can get spinach and liver and tripe. George reckons he got a bogey flavoured one once," Ron says. I gag, having been just eating a green bean. Ron raises an eyebrow at me, but luckily it turns out to be apple. Harry laughs at my relief, and we end up having a good laugh trying out all of the beans. I manage to get steak, blackberry, apple again, mud, paper, chicken and lemonade. Not a bad set, I must say. I've had worse.

A knock on the door makes me swallow the lemonade bean very quickly. A round faced boy comes in looking tearful. "Sorry, but have you seen a toad at all?" he asks nervously. I shake my head. "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!" he wails.

"He'll turn up," both Harry and I console him.

"Yes... Well if you see him..." he repeats sadly, before leaving. Ron rolls his eyes and turns away.

"Don't know why he's so bothered. If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers so I can't talk," Ron motions to a fat rat on his lap, which was asleep. I snort in laughter at the pathetic sight of it.

"He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference," Ron mumbles in disgust, "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look..." Ron pulls out a battered wand. It looks quite chipped, and has something white glittering at the tip.

"Unicorn hair's nearly poking out. Anyway..." Ron clears his throat and raises his wand, but then the compartment door slides open again. The boy asking about the toad comes back in, but this time he's accompanied by a girl with bushy hair and large front teeth. She was also wearing her new robes already.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said, in a bossy sort of voice.

"We've already told him we haven't seen it," Ron answered. However, the girl didn't listen. She looks at the wand in his hand. "Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then," she sits down. Ron looks startled, but answers anyway. "Er... alright."

He clears his throat again and raises the wand "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow. Turn this stupid fat rat yellow!" Ron waves the wand. Nothing happens. _Anticlimactic much..._ I think to myself.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" The girl asks. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard – I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough. I'm Hermione Granger by the way, who are you?"

She says all of this without breathing, and extremely fast. I answer "Avery White," grinning at her enthusiasm. I did learn quite a bit of the books off by heart, and don't hesitate to tell her. She beams at me, while Ron tells her his name. When Harry introduces himself, however, she goes "Are you really? I know all about you of course – I got a few extra books for background reading..." I tune out. She sounds fun, but could natter for Britain!

Eventually, she and the toadless boy, Neville, leave and Ron says "Whatever house I'm in, I hope she't not in it."

He throws the wand back in the trunk muttering "Stupid spell. George gave it to me, bet he knew it was a dud."

They continue to talk about houses, but I get bored, so I stand up, grab my new robes and go to get changed. I make my way down to the toilets at the end and lock one of the cubicles to change. Pulling off my jumper, I slide into the robes. After a few minutes, I'm dressed in a white shirt, black knee-length skirt, grey socks, grey/black sweatshirt, plain black tie and black school shoes. I slide the robe/cloak thingy on and button it up. I fold up my clothes and unlock the door, walking back down the train to the end, where I see Hermione just leaving. She smiles at me as I enter.

The compartment is a mess. There are sweets everywhere and a suspicious rat shaped mark on the window, which I stare at confusedly but shake off. Harry and Ron are both changed. I nudge Sooty back into his cage as a voice echoes throughout the train "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

My stomach lurches and twists with nerves, and I have the sudden urge to throw up. I look at Ron, who looks pale, and Harry, who looks a delicate shade of green. And then, the train begins to slow down. I fall into the door. Ron falls on the floor from laughing, while Harry chortles on the seat. I mock-scowl and haul myself up, pushing open the door and dragging the two boys into the crowd of people.

We push out of the door as the train finally stops and onto a tiny platform. It's freezing, and we bunch together like penguins for warmth. Suddenly, a lamp appears over the heads of everyone.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry, Avery?" I spy Hagrid over the heads of the students. We nod as he continues "C'mon, follow me—anymore firs' years? Mind yer step, now. Firs' years follow me!" We follow Hagrid and his lamp like moths down a steep narrow hill. Everyone I can see slips at least once or twice.

"Ye' all get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec. Jus' round this bend here," Hagrid calls back over his shoulder. I perk up a bit as the narrow path opens up onto the shore of a huge black lake. On the other side of the lake is a huge castle with many windows and turrets. Hagrid ushers us down to the shore, where a fleet of boats sits. "No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid yells. I jump into one, joined by Harry, Ron and Hermione. "Everybody in?" Hagrid asks, taking up an entire boat by himself. "Right then—FORWARD!"

All of the boats begin to sail forwards. I watch the castle, staring up at the turrets as we draw nearer. It towers above us. Suddenly, Hagrid yells "Heads down!" and we lean forwards and travel through a curtain of hanging ivy and under a cliff to a tunnel, which seems to be taking us under the castle. Eventually, we come to a stop at an underground harbour. We jump out, moaning as our legs ache. I definitely feel my knee click.

Hagrid manages to find Neville's toad, Trevor, as he checks the boats. Then, he leads us onto damp grass and up some stone steps and up to a huge oak front door. "Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?" Hagrid does a quick head count, before raising a huge fist and knocking three times on the door.

**What did you think? Leave a review, constructive criticism if it needed it, or a flame if you want marshmallows!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi! I'm back! No reviews for last chapter :( but never mind. Here is Chapter 4! And we finally see some Hogwarts this time!**

**I wanted to let you guys know that my laptop is pretty much on its deathbed. It isn't charging, I can only just turn it on. I'll try to keep regular updates, but I can't promise that. I'm sorry :( I am getting a new one soon, but as my awful luck would have it, I've lost the USB key that has all my chapters on it. **

**Enough of my blathering. Here's Chapter 4! Leave a review if you want, constructive criticism if you think I need it, or a flame if you want virtual toasted marshmallows. If you don't like marshmallows, you can leave a review as to what you want me to toast this time!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

The door swung open at once.

A tall witch with black hair stands there, wearing emerald coloured robes and a very stern expression. I get the feeling that we shouldn't get on her bad side.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid smiles.

"Thank you Hagrid. I will take them from here," she says shortly, before pulling the door open and leading us into the Entrance Hall. I gaze around as she leads us across the stone floor. We can hear a load of voices from a door to our right – that must be the Great Hall. _Somewhere in there is Laura_, I think. But then, Professor McGonagall speaks. "Welcome to Hogwarts. The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts." I doze off a little, having already been told this by Laura. However, I keep my eyes focused on her so as to not look disrespectful. When she leaves, I wake up again. "How exactly do they sort us into houses?" Harry asks nervously.

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking," Ron answers quietly. I shiver. Laura never told me about the method of Sorting, only that you _were_ sorted.

And then, several people scream. I jump about four feet in the air as about twenty ghosts glide through the wall.

"...He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really a ghost – I say, what are you all doing here?" A ghost wearing quite old fashioned clothes notices us first years. No one answers.

"New students!" says a fat ghost (I think he's called the Friar – or at least that's what Laura told me). I kinda ignore them. I'm ignoring everyone today. I guess the nerves, added to the fact that I'm _really_ tired, don't help.

"Move along now," the sharp voice of Professor McGonagall breaks the friendly natter of the ghosts, "The Sorting Ceremony is about to start." My anxiety flares up as I walk stiffly behind Hermione. As we walk, I gaze around and spy Laura sitting at the Hufflepuff table with her friends. She smiles encouragingly at me as I walk.

The Great Hall is amazing, full of decoration. Thousands of floating candles fill the air over four long tables. The tables in question are laid with golden plates, goblets and cutlery. At the very end of the hall is another long table, where all the teachers sit. Right in the middle is Dumbledore.

Professor McGonagall leads us right to the end and stops us in front of a raggedy hat on a four legged stool. We all stare at it as a rip near the brim opens as if it is a mouth and begins to sing.

Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffis are true And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

if you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!

Everyone bursts into applause as the hat finishes the song. I laugh a bit as some of my nerves leave me. _All we have to do is try the hat on... It won't hurt at all, no spells, nothing... just a hat_ I breathe heavily as Professor McGonagall pulls open a scroll. She begins calling out the names of people, who go up and try the hat on. "Abbott, Hannah!" Professor McGonagall calls first. I see a shiver run through Hannah as she walks up slowly and sits down on the stool, the hat slipping over her eyes.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat calls. Hannah jumps down and runs to the loudest cheering table.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!" The hat roars, as the first Ravenclaw boy runs towards the table.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy!"

"RAVENCLAW!" A second Ravenclaw student looks relieved, and dashes off.

"Brown, Lavender!"

"GRYFFINDOR!" The table for Gryffindor cheers the loudest this time. Lavender runs off, looking amazed.

"Bulstrode, Millicent!" A large, harsh faced girl walks up, scowling. After a few seconds of being on her head, the hat yells "SLYTHERIN!" and she stalks off to the table nearest the green and silver banners.

"Corner, Michael!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Cornfoot, Stephen!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Crabbe, Vincent!"

"SLYTHERIN!" the large cruel boy wanders off to the Slytherin table. Just by looking at them, I can tell they aren't nice people. Glancing at Harry and Ron, I can see they've realised the same thing.

"Davis, Tracey!"

"SLYTHERIN!" This surprised me, as Tracey doesn't look like she belongs in Slytherin. However, she looks happy enough, so I leave it.

"Entwhistle, Kevin!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Finnigan, Seamus!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The Gryffindor table roars in delight as the second new first-year joins them.

"Goldstein, Anthony!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Goyle, Gregory!"

"SLYTHERIN!" Another bulky boy swaggers off and sits down next to Crabbe.

"Granger, Hermione!" Hermione positively runs up and jams the hat on her head. The hat waits for about thirty seconds before calling "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Greengrass, Daphne!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Hopkins, Wayne!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Jones, Megan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Li, Sue!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Longbottom, Neville!" Neville, the toadless boy, runs up shakily and puts the hat on. It waits about five minutes before calling out "GRYFFINDOR!" Neville sprints to the Gryffindor table before realising he still has the hat on. He has to jog all the way back to give it back to Professor McGonagall.

"MacDougal, Morag!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Macmillan, Ernie!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Malfoy, Draco!" The blonde haired boy from Madam Malkin's swaggers up. He sits down lazily and waits. The hat only brushes against his head before calling out "SLYTHERIN!" Malfoy hops up and saunters down to the Slytherin table, sitting in between Crabbe and a very bloody ghost.

"Moon, Lily!"

"GRYFFINDOR!" (**AN: I'm not so sure about some of these. The website I used told me that four of these weren't given a house, so I'm making up the numbers with them ****J**** )**

"Parkinson, Pansy!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Patil, Padma!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Patil, Parvati!" the obvious twin of Padma walks up and sits down. The hat only waits a few seconds before it calls "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Potter, Harry!" I clap Harry on the back as he walks up, whispers filling the room. The hat falls below his eyes, and stays on his head for at least three minutes, before yelling "GRYFFINDOR!" I see Harry give a huge sigh of relief as he runs up to the Gryffindor table, where the Weasley twins are yelling "WE GOT POTTER!" in triumph.

"Rivers, Oliver!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Roper, Sophie!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Runcorn, Maddy!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Smith, Sally!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Smith, Zacharias!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Thomas, Dean!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Turpin, Lisa!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Weasley, Ronald!" Ron goes green and staggers up to the hat. It doesn't take long for the hat to make its decision "GRYFFINDOR!" Ron visibly sags in relief as Professor McGonagall takes the hat off. He sprints down to the table where Fred and George clap him heartily over the shoulder. He beams at all of them, before turning to watch the Sorting, where only me and another boy remain.

"White, Avery!" _Oh, no!_ I pale, stumbling up to the hat. Sitting down on the stool, I see the hat slip over my eyes and hear a small voice in my ear.

_Hmm... very intelligent... also greatly loyal, and extremely brave... Where to put you?_

I try not to let anything enter my mind, but for some reason all I can think of is how cool it would be to be in Gryffindor.

_Gryffindor, eh? If I remember rightly, your sister is in Hufflepuff... No matter. __**GRYFFINDOR!**_

I hear the hat shout the last part to the hall and sigh in relief as the hat is lifted off my eyes. I skip to the Gryffindor table where everyone is cheering, and sit down in between Fred Weasley and Harry, with Hermione opposite me. Finally, "Zabini, Blaise!" is declared to be a "SLYTHERIN!" and the Sorting is over.

I see Albus Dumbledore stand up, and everyone goes quiet. "Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Oddment! Blubber! Tweak! Thank you!" Dumbledore sits down again. I laugh uncertainly, clapping along with everyone else. I hear Harry ask a red-headed boy (that Ron informs me is his brother Percy) "Is he... a bit mad?"

"Mad?" says Percy airily, "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?"

As soon as he says it, the empty food dishes placed around the table fill with food. My jaw drops at all the food. I love all of it! There is roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, sausages, bacon, steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, chops, Yorkshire puddings, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup... and weirdly, peppermint humbugs. Fred pushes my jaw shut, smirking. I grin and pile a load of roast beef and chicken, roast potatoes, peas and Yorkshire puddings onto my plate, drowning it in gravy, and begin to eat. As I munch, I hear a voice say "That does look good." Turning my head, I spot the ghost in the ruff from earlier sadly watching Harry cut up his steak.

"Can't you-?"

"I haven't eaten in nearly four hundred years. I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicolas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower," Sir Nicholas introduces him self.

"I know who you are!" Ron grins, "My brothers told me about you – you're Nearly Headless Nick!"

"I would prefer you called me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy—" Sir Nicholas began stiffly, but her was cut off by Seamus.

"Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?"

Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed at this, "Like this." He grabs his left ear and pulls his entire head off his neck. It rests on his shoulder, held on by a tiny portion of his neck, which acts like a hinge. I gasp, and I'm not the only one. Neville nearly falls off his seat, and Hermione looks disgusted.

"So! New Gryffindors. I hope you're going to help us win the House Championship this year? Gryffindor's never gone so long without winning. Slytherin has got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable—he's the Slytherin ghost."

I glance over to the Slytherin table, where a bloody ghost is sitting. Right next to Malfoy. Malfoy doesn't seem to be pleased with the seating arrangements. The ghost himself is covered in silvery blood, which Seamus seems to be intrigued with. "How did he get covered in blood?" he and I ask at the same time. Whilst staring at Sir Nicolas in the eye, we high-five across the table.

"I've never asked," Sir Nicholas replies delicately.

I shrug and turn back to my plate, finishing off the roast potatoes before the food disappears, leaving the plates as clean as they were before. All of the mounds of spare food disappear as well, leaving the food dishes clean too. After a minute or so, the dishes fill up again with puddings. I smile broadly at the range: ice cream in every possible flavour and more, apple pies among other flavours, treacle tarts, gypsy tarts, chocolate éclairs, jam doughnuts, trifle, many different fruits, jelly, rice pudding... the list appears to be endless.

I help myself to a slice of gypsy tart and eat. While we munch away, the talk turns to our families.

"I'm half and half," Seamus explains, "Me dad's a muggle. Mum didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him." I laugh.

"What about you, Neville?" Ron enquires.

"Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch, but the family thought I was all muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me - - he pushed me off the end of Blackpool Pier once, I nearly drowned - - but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came over for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced – all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here – they all thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad," Neville explains, laughing slightly over the memory.

"How about you, Avery?" Dean asks me.

I shrug "I'm half and half, like Seamus, only both my Mum and Dad are half and half as well. I genuinely don't know my family tree far enough back to find where we _aren't_ half-bloods."

Eventually, after a few more minutes, during which time I snack on pineapple, Dumbledore stands up and the desserts disappear. He says "Ahem! Just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." I notice his eyes flashing in the direction of Fred and George who look triumphant.

"I have also been asked my Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their House team should contact Madam Hooch. And Finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

I see Harry laugh, but he's one of the few who does. I however feel a bit nervous at his announcement of the third-floor corridor.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" Dumbledore cries. I, being observant (I'm SHERLOCK!), see that many of the teachers' smiles have become very forced, particularly Professor McGonagall.

Dumbledore gives his wand a flick and a golden ribbon flies out the end. The ribbon rises high above the teacher's table and becomes words. "Everyone pick their favourite tune, and off we go!" Dumbledore announces. The entire school sings:

Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,

Teach us something please,

Whether we be old and bald

Or young with scabby knees,

Our heads could do with filling

With some interesting stuff,

For now they're bare and full of air,

Dead flies and bits of fluff,

So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we've forgot,

just do your best, we'll do the rest,

And learn until our brains all rot.

I choose a quick pace that matches the majority of the school. Eventually, the Weasley twins are the last ones singing, having chosen an extremely slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducts the last few lines with his wand, and claps loudest at the end. "Ahh, music. A magic beyond all we do here. And now, bedtime. Off you trot!" Everyone stands up.

"First years to me please! First years over here!" Percy stands up. Being the Gryffindor prefect, he has to lead the first years everywhere, so I walk over to him along with Harry and Ron. Once all ten of us are with him, he leads us out of the Great Hall and into the Entrance Hall, up the giant marble staircase. I'm so tired, I barely notice the staircases moving. There's a lot that Laura hasn't told me about Hogwarts.

He leads us down a corridor, but stops when he sees a bunch of walking sticks hanging in mid air. As Percy walks one step closer, the walking sticks start throwing themselves at him. "Peeves," Percy whispered to us, "A poltergeist." He turns back to the walking sticks, raising his voice "Peeves- show yourself!"

A raspberry-like sound rips through the air "Do you want me to the Bloody Baron?" With a loud pop, a small man appears. He has dark eyes, full of malice, and a wide mouth. Sitting cross legged, he clutches the walking sticks. "Oooooohh!" he cackles suddenly, "Ickle Firsties! What fun!"

Peeves swoops at us. I duck and pull Neville down with me – he seems a bit slow on the uptake. "Go away Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this. I mean it!" Percy barks. Peeves sticks his tongue out and vanishes, dropping the walking sticks on Neville and me. We can hear him zooming away, rattling coats of armour as he goes. I rub my head, scowling at the poltergeist.

"You want to watch out for Peeves," Percy points out the obvious as we walk off again. _Brilliant deduction, Watson,_ I think, knowing the reference from studying Sherlock Holmes in primary school. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him. He won't even listen to us Prefects. Here we are," Percy shows us a large portrait at the end of the corridor that we're on. The portrait is of a fat woman in a pink dress. "Is it bad that the first thought that comes to mind is 'blancmange'?" I whisper in Seamus's ear. He snorts loudly and has to turn it into a sneeze as Percy stares at him.

"Password?" the Fat Lady asks us as we approach the portrait.

"Caput Draconis," Percy answers. The woman nods and the portrait swings forwards to reveal a large round hole in the wall. Everyone scrambles through and we find ourselves in the Gryffindor Common Room

Percy directs the boys up one tower and the girls up another. We head up and up until we find a doorway reading 'First Year'. I open the door to find five four-poster beds with deep crimson velvet curtains hanging up around the frame. A hoot from one of the beds catches my attention. Sooty is waiting in his cage on the bedside table of the bed in between the door and a window. I grin and run over, letting him out. The owl flaps onto my shoulder and balances while we five girls find each other's beds. After five minutes, we check the trunks and realise that our beds have been decided. I'm closest to the door, with Hermione on my right. To Hermione's right is Lavender, to Lavender's right is Parvati and to Parvati's right is Lily.

Motioning goodnight to each other, we change into pyjamas and slide into bed. Sooty, who has no interest in going outside for some reason, perches on the top of my headboard. I draw the velvet curtains around me blocking out the dormitory. I think that food makes me sleepy, as I have one of the best nights I've had for a long time. With Sooty hooting quietly on the headboard, I fall into oblivion.

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**So! Let me know what you think as usual. Seeing as I didn't get any reviews for Chapter 3, it would be nice to get a couple this time :D Bye guys!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Guys! Two chapters in one day! Woo! And I think I might have fixed my laptop! Double woo! Also, I can get a third chapter up today if you want it! Triple woo!**

**Thanks to my reviewer,** September And Summer**!**** And yeah, my friend truly is mental.**

**So, enjoy! Oh, and a quick comment! Guests can leave reviews as well! That would be cool!**

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"Avery, wake up! You'll be late for class!" Hermione pounces on me. I growl and swat her away, wanting to spend five more minutes in bed.

She doesn't quit pestering me, so I get up, scowling. Pulling on my robes, which are slightly crumpled from last night, I stomp down to the Common Room, meeting up with Harry and Ron by the portrait hole.

Whispers seem to follow us, or more specifically Harry, throughout the day. "There, look."

"Where?"

"Next to the tall kid with red hair and the girl with the brown hair."

"Wearing the glasses?"

"Did you see his face?"

"Did you see his _scar_?"

These are just some of them. They make life a lot harder at Hogwarts. It's hard enough when there are a hundred and forty two staircases. So many kinds of staircases are here as well, such as narrow ones, or wide ones, rickety ones, ones that lead somewhere different every day. Some even have a single stair that vanishes. I always forget that stair. Also, there are doors. Now that may sound petty, but these doors are EVIL. Some refuse to open unless you ask nicely, or tickle them in the right spot. Others open right to a wall. Some move. Some aren't even doors at all, and are just solid walls. The people in the portraits go and visit each other, leaving no way of making a memory-path thing. And I SWEAR the coats of armour move.

The ghosts aren't particularly helpful, the exception being Nearly Headless Nick who is always cheerful. He points new Gryffindors in the right direction. However, Peeves is horrible. He drops baskets on your head, throws chalk at you... he's a classic bully, yet he does it to everyone.

Even worse than Peeves is the caretaker, Argus Filch. We manage to get on the wrong side of him on our first morning. Filch somehow finds us trying to force our way through a door that unluckily turns out to be the entrance to the out-of-bounds corridor on the third floor. He doesn't believe we are lost, is sure we are trying to break into it on purpose, and is threatening to lock us in the dungeons when we are rescued by Professor Quirrell, who is passing.

Filch has an evil cat called Mrs. Norris, a scrawny, dusty creature with lamp like eyes that are reminiscent of Filch's. She patrols the corridors. She's a snitch, and if you do something, anything, wrong, she would head to Filch, who knows the secret passageways of the school better than anyone (except perhaps the Weasley twins who told me about the passages they've found) and could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts. So many of us hate them, and a lot of people just want to kick Mrs Norris.

And the classes are a lot harder than I thought they would be. Some of these classes include Astromony, where we look at stars at midnight every Wednesday. Also, there's Herbology, taught by Professor Sprout, who's a short witch with flyaway hair stuffed under her hat.

However, the most boring class has to be History of Magic, taught by Professor Binns. Apparently, Binns had fallen asleep in front of the fire in the staffroom, had got up the next morning to go to teach and left his body behind. It's the only class taught by a ghost, so you would _think_ it would be interesting. No! We all fall asleep in his lessons unless you're Hermione. I just absently doodle on my parchment.

I've decided my favourite lessons are Charms and Transfiguration. Professor Flitwick, the very tiny teacher who has to stand on a pile of books to reach his desk, gives a little squeak of excitement every time he reads Harry's name off the register.

However, Professor McGonagall is the complete opposite. She continues her stern demeanour into the classroom. As soon as we sit down in her lesson, she gives us a talking to "Transfiguration is some of the complex and most dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she says, "Anyone messing around in my classroom will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Then, she turns her desk into a pig and back, exciting the entire class. I can't wait to get started, but she bursts our bubble, saying that we won't be doing anything as complex as that for a long time. After taking several sheets of parchment of complicated notes, she gives us each a match and allows us to try to turn it into a needle.

By the end of the lesson, only me and Hermione have managed any change. She holds them up to show how the ends have gone all pointy and silver, and gives us a rare smile.

We were all looking forwards to Professor Quirrell's lessons, but they're a bit of a joke. The classroom smells really badly of garlic, which is to ward off a vampire that Quirrell met in Romania and was afraid would come back. Also, he wears a purple turban all the time. HE tells us that it was given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie. I don't really believe this story. When Seamus asks Quirrell how he fought the zombie, Quirrell turns pink and starts talking about the weather. I've noticed that the turban smells funny, but Fred and George insist that it's stuffed with garlic for constant protection.

Friday is a milestone for us. We actually manage to make it to breakfast without getting lost once! "What have we got today?" Harry asks. I pull out my timetable.

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," I groan.

"Snape's head of Slytherin House. They say he always favours them – we'll be able to see if it's true," Ron points out.

"Wish McGonagall favoured us," Harry and I say in unison. She gave us a massive pile of homework yesterday, and I stayed up 'til three in the morning finishing it. As a result, I'm knackered.

Suddenly, the mail arrives. I flinch as Brenna flies in along with Harry's owl, Hedwig. Brenna swoops low and drops a package on my lap. Hedwig drops a note on Harry's plate. Harry opens his at once, whereas I finish breakfast before opening mine. I become nosy, peering over Harry's shoulder to read his note. It's from Hagrid, inviting him to come over in the afternoon, seeing as we get Fridays off.

I rip open the package from Brenna , who waits patiently for me to finish. Inside is a small note from Mum and Dad, saying:

_Dear Avery,_

_Congratulations on being in Gryffindor! We knew you would surprise us!_

_We thought you would miss these, so we sent you some packets. Enjoy!_

_Mum and Dad _

_X X X_

I glance at the packet and see some muggle sweets that I have a particular fondness for. Fizzy strawberry laces, Skittles, Toxic Waste... I love them all. Ron stares in puzzlement at the Toxic Waste. "You wanna try one?" I ask, keeping my face completely straight. He nods eagerly. I laugh, saying "Fine, on two conditions. One, you let me borrow your quill to reply, and two, you must keep it in your mouth until it's gone."

Ron throws his quill at me, and I pull out a sweet for him. Nothing too sour, in fact it's the least sour one. He pops it in his mouth, and seems content for five seconds until the taste starts to kick in. With a grimace, he makes to take it out of his mouth, but I stop him. "Remember my two terms of the agreement?"

He nods and struggles to contain the sweet. Meanwhile, I write a thank-you note back home. Brenna hoots and flaps off after a quick drink of water. I watch her disappear along with Hedwig, before standing up. Ron grimaces, the sweet finally gone.

We head off to Potions, which is down in the dungeons. It's freezing in the room, and is filled with dead stuff in jars. Creepy. Snape, like Flitwick, starts off the class by reading from the register. Again like Flitwick, he pauses at Harry's name. "Ah yes," he says softly, "Harry Potter. Our new... celebrity."

Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle snigger. They try to be stealthy, but it's easy to hear them.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he begins. His voice is barely more than a whisper, but we manage to hear every word due to the silence of the room. I hardly dare to breathe for fear of being too loud. "AS there is little foolish wand waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death... If you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach," Snape finishes his speech, glaring at us all. A long silence follows. Hermione seems desperate to prove that she isn't a dunderhead. In fact, so am I, but I don't show it as obviously.

"Potter!" Snape shouts, making everyone jump, "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

I glance at Harry, who seems to be completely stumped. Ron mirrors his expression. I rack my brains, vaguely remembering 'sleeping potion'. Hermione's hand shoots into the air.

"I don't know, sir," Harry says.

"Tut tut – fame clearly isn't everything," Snape sneers, ignoring Hermione's hand. "Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find a bezoar?"

Now this one I do know. I remember this – you look for a bezoar in the stomach of a goat. Hermione stretches her hand as far into the air as it could possibly go. I merely raise my hand, not particularly bothered.

"I don't know sir," Harry repeats quietly. I feel a hatred for Snape begin to grow, expanding inside my stomach at an alarming rate.

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh Potter?" Snape smirks, "What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"I don't know," Harry answers, almost in a whisper as Hermione raises her hand so high she stands up. Harry continues "I think Hermione does though, why don't you try her?" Me, Ron and a few other people laugh. I see Seamus wink at Harry. Snape however is not pleased. "Sit down," he snaps at Hermione, who does so immediately.

"For your information Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant which also goes by the name of aconite," Snape answers all of his questions, before growling "Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

A sudden rummage for quills and parchment fills the dungeon as we all copy down notes. Over the din, Snape calls "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor for your cheek Potter."

Things don't really improve for Gryffindor throughout the lesson. Snape makes us mix up a simple potion that is supposed to cure boils. He looks like an overgrown bat, sweeping around the dungeon and breathing down our necks as we weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs. The only person Snape doesn't criticise is Malfoy, whom he seems to harbour slight affection for. In fact, he is just telling us about the perfect way Malfoy has stewed his horned slugs when a cloud of neon green smoke and a hissing sound fill the dungeon. Neville has managed to melt Seamus's cauldron, and the potion they were brewing is spreading steadily across the floor, dissolving people's shoes.

I crouch on my stool, out of the way. Neville stands there moaning. He was right in the line of fire and is drenched in potion. Angry red boils spring over his arms and face. "Idiot boy!" Snape spits at Neville, clearing the potion away with a sweep of his wand "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville only manages a small whimper "Take him up to the Hospital Wing," the overgrown bat snarls at Seamus, who hurries off with Neville.

After this, he rounds on me, Harry and Ron, we were working in a three next to Neville and Seamus. I pause, about to add the stewed horned slugs to our mixture. "You – Potter – why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

I see Harry open his mouth to argue at this, but at the same time Ron and I kick him. Ron mutters "Don't push it. I've heard Snape can turn very nasty." Harry growls something quietly under his breath as we continue to brew the potion, ending up with a satisfactory flask at the end. We pack up and empty the cauldron at the end and climb out of the dungeon. I see Harry's expression turn moody.

"Cheer up. Snape's always taking points off Fred and George," Ron grins. "Hey, can we come and meet Hagrid with you?"

Harry agrees, and we head up to Gryffindor Tower to dump our stuff. I take my sketch book and charcoal pencil, some parchment, ink and a quill just in case. At five to three we walk through the grounds to Hagrid's hut, a small wooden house on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Outside the front door sits a crossbow and a pair of huge galoshes.

Harry knocks on the front door and we hear scrabbling on wood, followed by some loud booming barks. "Back, Fang – back!" Hagrid shouts. Suddenly, Hagrid's face appears in a crack as he opens the door "Hang on," he says "Back Fang!"

He lets us in, hanging onto the collar of a huge boarhound. There is only one room in the hut. Many dead animals hand from the ceiling, a copper kettle sits on the open fire and a huge bed with a patchwork quilt sits in the corner.

"Make yerselves at home," Hagrid says, letting Fang go. The boarhound leaps on Ron and starts licking his ears, obviously not as fierce as he looks. "This is Ron," Harry introduces our ginger friend, "And you already know Avery." Hagrid nods, piling rock cakes on a plate and pouring boiling water into a giant teapot.

"Another Weasley, eh?" Hagrid looks at Ron, eyes lingering on his freckles, "I spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the Forbidden Forest."

I pick up a rock cake and bite into it. Hearing a crack, I quickly pull the cake from my mouth and poke my teeth, feeling an empty gap where a filling should be. After that, I settle for drawing Harry and Fang. The dog has settled down with his head on Harry's lap, drooling over his robes. We tell Hagrid about our first lessons. Hagrid rants on about Filch, before starting on his evil cat. "An' as fer that cat, Mrs Norris, I'd like to introduce her to Fang sometime. D'yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can't get rid of her – Filch puts her up to it."

Harry starts grumpily telling Hagrid about Potions. Hagrid, like Ron, tells Harry not to worry about Snape, seeing as he hates everyone.

"But he seemed to really hate me!"

"Rubbish," Hagrid brushes it off "Why should he?"

After this, Hagrid changes the subject "How's yer brother Charlie?" he asks Ron, "I liked him a lot – great with animals."

Ron starts enthusiastically while Harry picks up a piece of newspaper. It's a cutting from the Daily Prophet. I stand up and read it over his shoulder.

**GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LAST:**

**Investigations continue into the break in on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown. Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day. "But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon**.

"Hagrid, that Gringotts break in happened on my birthday! It might've happened while we were there!" Harry says loudly. Hagrid grunts and offers him another rock cake, not meeting his eyes and again changing the subject. I sit back down and add the last finishing touches to my drawing.

Ron grabs my sketch pad and looks at the drawing, marvelling. I blush as Hagrid takes the pad and examines it. He shows Harry, who says that it's really good. I go even deeper crimson.

"Yeh should get back up ter the castle," Hagrid reminds us. We nod and stand, I pack my sketch stuff away. And a minute later, we are making our way back up to the castle, pockets full of rock cakes that we were too polite to refuse. Harry looks deep in thought, but I ignore it, enjoying the smell of fresh air.

We eat dinner and head up to the Common Room. After some time, it empties, and it's just me and Hermione left as we finish off the huge amount of homework that Professor McGonagall gave us. Finally, however, I finish it, bidding Hermione goodnight, and head up to the dormitories. Lily, Parvati and Lavender are all asleep already. I change and slide into bed, drawing the velvet hangers around me and falling into a deep and dreamless sleep.

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**So! What did you think? Leave a review on what you liked, leave constructive criticism if I need it, or a flame if you want virtual toasted food. Next one should be out soon!**


	6. Chapter 6

**I got my first constructive criticism/flame today! I'm so happy! Thanks to **Brynhildr the Valkyrie ** for the review! I take everything into account and realise that my first chapter wasn't very logical. I wasn't sure how to start the story off, and this story will be going through a full rewrite at some point. When that is, I don't know, but thanks for pointing that out!**

**I get the feeling a lot of you won't like this chapter, but I liked it, and as I said for the review, this story ****_will _****go through rewrite, so it'll be drastically improved.**

**Enjoy!**

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On Monday a notice is pinned up, telling us that Flying lessons would be starting on Thursday – and that Gryffindors and Slytherins would be learning together. I didn't care about the Slytherin part – I want to be a Chaser on the Quidditch team. "Typical," Harry mutters darkly. "Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy."

Malfoy does boast a lot, but Ron and I reason that he might not necessarily make a fool of himself, and that it was probably just talk.

Everyone seems to be really nervous about flying except me. I feel fine, but I guess that's because when I was younger my parents used to take me and Laura to an empty field for a day and let us ride small child –friendly broomsticks. I'm used to them, but not the bigger ones. The feeling of nervousness enters me at this thought.

At breakfast on Thursday, a barn owl flies straight for Neville. It's carrying a package from his grandmother. He opens it excitedly and shows us all a glass ball full of white smoke. "It's a Remembrall," he explains, "Gran knows I forget things – this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this, and if it turns red... oh..." the smoke in the Remembrall turns a scarlet red "...You've forgotten something..."

Neville has fun trying to remember what he had forgotten when Malfoy snatches the glass orb from his fingers. Harry, Ron and I jump to our feet. I half hope for an excuse to punch the idiot, but Professor McGonagall arrives in a flash "What's going on?"

"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor," Neville responds.

"Just looking," Malfoy scowls, dropping it back onto the table and sloping away with Crabbe and Goyle following him.

At three-thirty in the afternoon, we head out onto the grounds for our first Flying lesson. It's clear and breezy today as we stride down to a flat area of land. The Slytherins are already here. Twenty broomsticks lie on the ground in neat lines. Suddenly, our Flying teacher Madam Hooch arrives, making us jump. She has short grey hair and yellow eyes.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up," she barks at us. I stand on the left of the broomstick at the end. "Stick your right hand over the broom and say 'up'!" Madam Hooch shouts. I hold my right hand over the broom and shout "UP!" To my surprise and happiness, the broomstick leaps right into my hand. Only me and Harry manage this at the same time. I notice Madam Hooch watching me slightly as I examine the broomstick, running my left hand along the handle.

When everyone has their brooms in their hands, Madam Hooch shows us how to mount without sliding off, and walks down the rows, correcting our grips. She comes to mine and Harry's and nods approvingly before telling Malfoy he'd been doing it for years.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," Madam Hooch says, "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet and then come straight back down. On my whistle – three – two – "

But Neville, who's jumpy, pushes off before the whistle is blown. "Come back boy!" Madam Hooch shouts, but Neville rises faster than a cork out of a wine bottle. I watch him rise. His pale face looks down and gasps at the height, he slips off the broom and WHAM!

With a horrible crack that makes me shudder, Neville lands facedown in the grass. Madam Hooch leans over him "Broken wrist," she mutters, "Come on, boy. It's alright, up you get."

She turns to the rest of us with a warning look. "None of you is to move while I take this boy to the Hospital Wing. You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch'. Come on, dear," she walks off with a tearful Neville. As soon as they're out of earshot, Malfoy bursts into laughter.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?"

The other Slytherins start to join in. "Shut up, Malfoy!" Parvati snaps.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" Pansy Parkinson, a Slytherin girl, says scornfully. "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Parvati."

"Look!" Malfoy darts forwards suddenly and snatches something out of the grass, "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him." The Remembrall sits in his open palm.

"Give that here Malfoy," Harry says quietly. Everyone stops talking to watch. Malfoy smirks horribly.

" think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find. How about – up a tree?"

"Give it here!" Harry yells, but Malfoy has already mounted his broom and is flying off. He wasn't lying, he could fly well. He hovers at the top of an oak tree, taunting "Come and get it, Potter!"

I watch Harry grab his broom. Hermione leaps forwards, yelling "No! Madam Hooch told us not to move! You get us all into trouble!" Harry seems to ignore her completely, mounting the broom and kicking off. He rises fast, lifting the handle slightly to gain extra height. Ron gives an admiring hoot as he levels with Malfoy. "Give it here, or I'll knock you off that broom!"

"Oh yeah?" Malfoy tries to sneer but he looks nervous. I sneak to a nearby apple tree and grab the biggest I can find and creeping back to the group. I managed to miss Harry shoot at Malfoy. Several people are clapping. "CATCH IT IF YOU CAN THEN!" Malfoy yells, throwing the Remembrall into the air and streaking towards the ground, attempting to land. I aim and throw the apple the flash that is Malfoy, punching the air as it hits the handle of the broom and knocks him off course.

Harry dives for the Remembrall, heading almost vertically. Many people scream, he stretches out his hand and catches the ball a foot from the ground. Pulling the broom straight again, he topples gently onto the ground.

"HARRY POTTER!" I leap about four feet in the air as Professor McGonagall shouts, running towards us. Harry stands up, visibly trembling. "Never, in all my time at Hogwarts –"

"It wasn't his fault, Professor –"

"Be quiet, Miss Patil."

"But Malfoy –"

"That's enough, Mr Weasley. Potter, follow me now. Oh, and Miss White, you should come too." My heart drops. I walk along with Harry, feeling my legs turn to lead. She sweeps along without even looking at us. I have to jog to keep up with her as she strides up through the doors and along corridors. Only one thought plays through my mind – we're going to be expelled. Mum will kill me. Dad will kill me.

Suddenly, Professor McGonagall stops outside a classroom. I almost walk into her, but Harry manages to grab my arm just in time. "Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?"

"Wood? What the hell is Wood?" I whisper as quietly as possible to Harry, who looks terrified. However, Wood just turns out to be a large burly fifth-year. He looks confused as we march up the corridor to an empty classroom, sending curious glances to me and Harry, although it's mostly the latter due to his fame.

"In here," Professor McGonagall opens the door to a classroom and points us in. The only person inside is Peeves who is busy writing rude words on the chalkboard.

"Out Peeves!" she barks. Peeves chucks the chalk in the bin and dives out, cursing loudly. Professor McGonagall shuts the door and faces us. "Potter, White, this is Oliver Wood. Wood – I've found you a seeker," she motions to Harry, "and a Chaser." She motions to me. My jaw drops at her.

Wood also seems surprised, but his expression is one of delight. "Are you serious Professor?"

"Absolutely. These students are naturals. I've never seen anything like it. Was that your first time on a broomstick, Potter?" Professor McGonagall turns to Harry. He nods silently. I feel relief flood around my body – I'm not being expelled.

"He caught that thing after a fifty-foot dive. Didn't even scratch himself – Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it," Professor McGonagall continues, "And she managed to throw an apple at a moving broomstick going in a diagonal dive and hit the very end of the handle, knocking the rider off completely. We could do with a third Chaser with an aim like that."

Wood looks as though he's going to faint – he's in compete euphoria. "Ever seen a game of Quidditch?" he asks us excitedly.

"I've never seen one, but I know the rules and the game," I answer. Harry just shakes his head.

"Wood's captain of the Gryffindor team," Professor McGonagall explains.

"he's just the build for a Seeker, she's the build for a Chaser," Wood grins, circling us, "Both light and speedy, we'll have to get them decent brooms Professor – a Nimbus Two Thousand or a Cleansweep Seven, I'd say."

"I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we can't bend that first-year rule. Heaven knows, we need a better team than last year. Flattened in that last match by Slytherin. I couldn't look Severus Snape in the face for weeks..." Professor McGonagall looks sternly at us, "I want to hear you're training hard or I may change my mind about punishing you." Suddenly, she smiles at us.

"Your father would have been proud, Potter," she says, "He was an excellent Quidditch player himself." Wood opens the classroom door and lets us out. "You should go to dinner. Quidditch practices are three times a week – I'll fetch you from the Common Room for training."

We nod and sprint off down the corridor, practically flying down the staircase and into the Great Hall for dinner. We spy Ron sitting in the middle and shoot towards him, flinging ourselves down on either side of him and divulging our news. "You're joking."

Ron has a piece of steak and kidney pie on his fork, half way towards his mouth, but he's forgotten it in the light of the recent events. "Seeker? But first-years never—you must be the youngest player in about..." Ron tries to judge the Quidditch history.

"A century," Harry finishes, shovelling pie into his mouth.

"And you're a Chaser?" Ron asks me. I nod happily. "To be honest, I'm not surprised. You managed to hit Malfoy's broom while it was diving with an apple and still knock him off. I guess you could also be a Beater like that."

"We start training next week," Harry says, "Only don't tell anyone – Wood wants to keep it a secret."

"Boo!" I feel two hands on my shoulders and clap my hands to my mouth to stifle a scream as Fred and George Weasley poke their heads around my shoulders. Harry and Ron are practically dying of laughter as I struggle to lower my heart rate. The twins turns to Harry, looking between us two.

"Well done," they grin, "Wood told us, we're on the team too – Beaters."

"I tell you, we're going to win the Quidditch Cup for sure this year," says Fred proudly, "we haven't won since Charlie left, but this years team is going to be brilliant. You must be good, guys, Wood was almost skipping when he told us."

"Anyway, we've got to go. Lee Jordan reckons he's found a new secret passageway out of the school," George straightens up.

"Bet it's that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first week. See you," the twins walk off. They were only just leaving the table when Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle appear out of nowhere.

"Having a last meal, Potter? White? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?" he says. I am delighted to see that he has a large bruise on his cheekbone, several grass stains and a few scratches from landing on the ground.

"You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you," says Harry coolly. I raise an eyebrow – Crabbe and Goyle aren't exactly little.

"I'd take you on any time on my own," Malfoy says quietly, "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's Duel. Wands only, no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before I suppose?"

"Course he has," says Ron roughly, glaring at him. "I'm his second, Avery's his third. Who're yours?"

Malfoy sizes up Crabbe and Goyle, before deciding "Crabbe second, Goyle third. Midnight, all right? We'll meet you in the Trophy Room, that's always unlocked."

The three walk off. "What is a wizard's duel? And what do you mean you're my second and Avery's my third?"

"Well, a second's there to take over if you die," Ron says casually, finally eating his cold pie.

"And a third takes over for the dead second," I grin at his face.

"But people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy'll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse anyway," Ron reasons.

"And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?" Harry asks nervously.

"Throw it away and punch him on the nose," Ron suggests.

"Shove it up his-" I begin, but a cough cuts me off.

"Excuse me." Hermione is standing above us.

"Can't a person eat in peace in this place?" Ron mumbles grumpily. I stand up, not willing to take part in this argument. "See you later guys," I say, smiling at Hermione as I pass and head out of the Great Hall and up the stairs to the Gryffindor Common Room. As I climb through the portrait hole, Lavender, Parvati and Lily pass me. "Your owl's back – he has a letter for you," Lavender smiles. I thank her and shoot upstairs.

Sure enough, Sooty is waiting patiently on the headboard of my bed, a letter clamped in his beak. I take it from him, offering my shoulder so that he can fly onto it, and open the letter.

_Dear Avery,_

_We are so proud of you for making the Gryffindor team! Professor McGonagall sent us an owl. You must be the first of our family to be a Quidditch player, so congratulations!_

_We are going abroad over the Christmas holidays, so you can stay there at Hogwarts if you'd prefer – we are travelling to Portugal. If you wish to stay, send Sooty back, and we'll send your presents up with him, Brenna and Walnut._

_Congratulations again!_

_Love, Mum and Dad_

I smile and fold the letter back up, sliding it into my trunk before pulling a fresh piece of parchment and a quill and ink out and writing a reply.

**Dear Mum and Dad,**

**Thanks! It was a lucky aim that got me the position of Chaser on the team. And I'll stay at Hogwarts for Christmas – I never hold well with foreign food.**

**Instead of sending Sooty, I'll send one of the school owls – Sooty needs a well-deserved rest!**

**Love Avery**

I fold the letter up and make my way out of the dormitory, down to the Common Room. Once there, I bump, quite literally, into Harry and Ron, who decide to come to the Owlery with me. We make our way through the castle, dodging students and ghosts alike, until we reach the Owlery. I climb up the stairs and push the doors open. Instantly, a strong musty smell hits me, sending me reeling backwards and making my eyes water.

I stand by the entrance to get used to it before heading inside. Thousands of eyes stare at me as I select a large tawny owl to take my letter. I tell him the address, slightly awkwardly seeing as Sooty knows where to go and I've never had to do this before, and tie the letter to the bird's ankle.

With a soft hoot, the tawny owl flies off. I watch him disappear into the horizon before we head back to the Gryffindor Common Room. On the way, Harry and Ron tell me their plans for the Duel tonight. It involves staying in our dormitories (or in my case, the girl's toilets near Gryffindor Tower) until everyone has gone to bed then sneaking out. We'll then make our way to the Trophy Room and duel Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle.

I follow my end, and at ten o clock I slip out of the portrait hole and sprint to the toilets. It is mercifully empty, and I slide against the wall for an hour and a half, waiting for the signal that we decided on earlier – three short knocks, a long knock, and three more short knocks.

When the first three knocks appear I jump out of my skin and nearly scream, but I calm down after a few seconds. Opening the door, I find a much larger party than I anticipated. There's Harry and Ron, but for some reason there's also Hermione and Neville. I am about to ask, but Harry shushes me.

"If either of you get us caught, I'll never rest until I've learned that Curse of the Bogies Quirrell told us about and used it on you," Ron hisses to Hermione who opens her mouth, but Harry shushes her as well.

We flit along corridors as silently as possible towards the Trophy Room, passing no ghosts or teachers. I push open the door quietly, walking inside. We stand in the middle of the room, before edging along the walls. "He's late, maybe he's chickened out," Ron whispers, glancing at his watch.

Suddenly, a noise from behind the wall makes us all jump. "Sniff around, my sweet. They might be lurking in a corner," I hear Filch speak to Mrs Norris. Horrified, Harry motions to the door. We sprint to it, only just closing it by the time Filch walks into the room. "They're in here somewhere, probably hiding," Filch mutters to the evil cat.

"This way," Harry mouths to us. We nod and creep down a gallery full of suits of armour. We hear Filch getting nearer. All of a sudden, Neville lets out a shrill squeal of fear and breaks into a run. He trips and grabs Ron's arm to steady himself, but pulls him into a suit of armour. The crash makes me start for the third time that night. "RUN!" Harry yells. We race down to the end of the gallery, swinging around the door and down another corridor. I glance back over my shoulder to see if Filch is following, but I can't see anything.

Harry barges through a tapestry, revealing a passage. We all run through it, me in the back. I am careful to replace the tapestry as it was before running along the passage to keep up. Luckily, it comes out near our Charms classroom. "I think we've lost them," Harry pants, leaning against the wall.

"I – told – you," Hermione gasps, clutching a stitch, " I – told – you."

"We've got to get back to Gryffindor Tower, quickly as possible," Ron mumbles.

"Malfoy tricked you. You realise that don't you? He was never going to meet you – Filch knew someone was going to be in the Trophy Room, Malfoy must have tipped him off," Hermione argues with Harry as we jog down the corridors.

"That lying, cheating scumbag!" I exclaim. I am about to continue my rant when a doorknob rattles and something shoots out of a classroom – Peeves. The poltergeist squeals in delight when he sees us.

"Shut up Peeves – you'll get us thrown out."

Peeves cackles "Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut tut tut, naughty naughty, you'll get caughty!"

"Not if you don't give us away. Peeves, please," I plead.

"Should tell Filch I should," Peeves puts on a saintly voice, but his eyes betray a wicked look. "It's for your own good, you know."

"Get out of the way," Ron growls, swiping at him. This is a big mistake.

"**STUDENTS OUT OF BED!**" Peeves roars at the top of his lungs, "**STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR**!" We duck under Peeves and run for our lives. I glance back over my shoulder and manage to slam right into a wooden door at the end of the corridor. Falling onto my back, I watch Hermione whisper "Alohomora!"

The lock clicks and the door swings open. I scramble up as we pile through it. Ron shuts the door and we press our ears against it. "Which way did they go Peeves?" Filch asks, "Quick, tell me."

"Say 'please'."  
"Don't mess with me, Peeves, now where did they go?"

"Shan't say nothing if you don't say please."

"Alright. Please."

"NOTHING! Hahaha! Told you I wouldn't say nothing if you didn't say please! HAHAHAH!" We hear Peeves whooshing away and Filch cursing in anger.

"He thinks this door is locked," Harry whispers, "I think we'll be okay – get off Neville!"

I turn around. "Uhh..." I tug on Harry's robe as well, too afraid to talk.

"WHAT?" Harry whirls around then stops dead. We aren't in a room, like we thought. We're in a corridor. The forbidden third-floor corridor to be exact.

And there's a reason it's forbidden. We are staring right into the eyes of a huge dog. Three heads sprout from its shoulders, three pairs of rolling eyes, three noses. It stands still, taken back by our sudden appearance. However, the growing growls show that it's getting over its surprise. Harry reaches for the door knob. He opens the door and we all fall back.

Ron slams the door shut and Hermione locks it and we almost literally fly back to Gryffindor Tower.

"Where on earth have you been?" the Fat Lady asks us, looking at our flushed faces.

"Never mind that, pig snout, pig snout," Harry gasps. We scramble through the hole and collapse into armchairs. I hold my arm out in front of all five of us, clearly showing how much I'm trembling. Neville looks as though he'll never speak again from fear. It is a little while before any of us say anything, but Ron is the first to speak.

"What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school? If any dog needs exercise, that one does."

Hermione starts to speak, a very bad temper evident "You don't use your eyes, any of you do you? Didn't you see what it was standing on?" she snaps.

"I used my eyes to find out that I am never going near that thing again," I mumble, closing my eyes.

"The floor? I wasn't looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads," Harry says.

"No, no the floor. It was standing on a trapdoor. It's obviously guarding something," Hermione scowls at us before standing up and saying "I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed – or worse, expelled. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed."

"Wait up Hermione, I'll come," I say, standing up and walking up with her to our dormitories. She seems less angry with me than the boys and has pretty much forgiven me by the time we get into bed. I lay in bed for a minute, trying to control my trembling, and as soon as I have, I fall into a deep dreamless sleep.

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**So what did you think? Leave a review, constructive criticism or a flame for virtual toasted food!**


	7. Chapter 7

**What's this? A Ranger, caught off his guard? NO! It's a new chapter of Year One!**

**So my exams are over (I know I'm going to fail English and Computing), so I have more time to post chapters. **

**Huge thanks to Perfection June and Cherish. Love. Dream for reviewing!**

**Enjoy!**

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Malfoy seems extra surprised to see us at breakfast the next morning looking tired yet relatively cheerful. Harry and Ron are already planning their next adventure. I however am catching up on sleep at the table. Luckily, it's Friday so we get the afternoon off.

I only wake up when a parcel is dropped on my head. I shoot up, nearly falling off the bench backwards as I wake myself up. I grumble and pull the parcel towards me, pulling the label off and reading it. **DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE!**

**It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but I don't want everyone knowing you've got a broomstick or they'll all want one. Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the Quidditch field at seven o clock for your first training session.**

**Professor McGonagall**

After finishing reading the note, I can hardly contain my happiness. I am ecstatic. Harry and Ron stand up, Harry clutching a parcel of similar shape. WE head down the Great Hall and half way up the stairs, before we are ambushed by Malfoy. "That's a broomstick," he says, jealousy evident in his voice, "You'll be in for it this time, Potter, White, first years aren't allowed them."

"They aren't just any old broomsticks," Ron can't resist it, "they're Nimbus Two Thousands. What did you say you've got at home, Malfoy? A Comet Two Sixty?" Ron grins at us, "Comets look flashy but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus."

"What would you know about it, Weasley? You couldn't afford half the handle," Malfoy sneers, "I suppose you and your brothers have to save up twig by twig." Before Ron can retaliate, Professor Flitwick appears at Malfoy's elbow.

"Not arguing I hope, boys?" I clear my throat. "And girls?"

"Potter and White have been sent broomsticks, Professor," Malfoy snitches.

"Yes, yes, that's right, " Professor Flitwck beams at us, "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances. And what models are they?"

"Nimbus Two Thousands, sir," Harry says. I can see he's fighting a losing battle against laughing. "And it's really thanks to Malfoy here they we've got them." He adds. Professor Flitwick looks a little confused but walks off anyway. We head up the stairs, containing our laughter. "Well it's true," Harry laughs. "If he hadn't stolen Neville's Remembrall we wouldn't be on the team..."

"So I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking rules?" Hermione's disapproving and angry voice rings out behind us. I raise an eyebrow, not realising that the boys were on such bad terms with her.

"I thought you weren't speaking to us?" says Harry. I frown at him.

"Yes, don't stop now. It's doing us so much good," Ron adds. I scowl even more as Hermione marches away, nose in the air. "You guys are really mean to her," I say in her defence.

"She's too dislikeable," Ron says nonchalantly.

We hide our broomsticks in Harry's trunk – I'd rather keep them together – and struggle to get through lessons all day. I hardly notice that I'm eating dinner, I'm so excited, and finally we get to run upstairs to unwrap the brooms with Ron.

The broomsticks look amazing. They're shiny, made with sleek polished mahogany with neat straight twigs for a tail. Near the top, 'Nimbus Two Thousand' is written at the top in gold.

Seven o clock draws near and we pick up the brooms and head through the castle and into the grounds in the growing dusk. Too excited to walk, I lie the broom down and shout "UP!"

The broom flies straight into my hand and I mount it, laughing as it vibrates almost in excitement. Harry copies me and we begin to shoot up, faster than Neville did when he had a disastrous flying lesson. We zoom to the Quidditch Stadium and perform a few laps around the pitch. I spot an abandoned, wrecked Quaffle near the base of the stadium and pick up, holding it under my arm as I fly around and attempt to shoot. My first shot goes straight through the hoop, and I whizz down to catch it.

Meanwhile, Harry has fun flying round the pitch in the darkness, diving and rising for a little bit of practice.

"Hey, Potter, White, come down!" Oliver Wood's voice rings out. I see him walk onto the pitch with a girl, carrying between them a large wooden crate.

Harry takes a slow descent down. I however go for a vertical dive and leap off the broom, running over to the pair. "Very nice," Wood says, his eyes glinting in happiness, "I see what McGonagall meant. You pair really are naturals. Potter, I'm just going to teach you the rules this evening, then you'll be joining team practices three times a week. White, this is Angelina Johnson. Seeing as you already know the rules of Quidditch, you and her will start practicing with the spare Quaffle that you found," Wood says. I nod, returning a smile to Angelina.

We split off and Angelina and I fly up to the top of the pitch, level with the highest hoop. "Right, I watched you score for a minute and I can see that you have no trouble aiming," she begins. I glow with pride. "So we're going to work on teamwork for this evening, and teach you when you have to pass and when to just keep going."

We fly to one end of the post and head along slowly to the other side, passing to each other after every few metres. After, we turn around and go a bit faster, passing as quickly as we can. This process is repeated until neither of us can go any faster because Harry and Wood have joined us on court. While they play a game using Muggle golf balls, we weave in and out passing the Quaffle to each other.

After another half an hour, Wood calls off practice as we can no longer see anything. Angelina takes my spare Quaffle and packs it away and Harry and I head back up to the castle and to bed.

It must be because I'm so busy what with lessons, Quidditch practice and homework but the two months I've been at Hogwarts has flown by! The lessons are getting more interesting as well.

On Halloween morning, we wake up to an amazing smell. I recognise it as pumpkin pie, either baking or freshly baked, because Mum makes it on a regular basis. I didn't think the day would get much better, because a) it's a Friday so we get the afternoon off b) we have a Halloween feast at seven o clock and c) we have Quidditch practice before the feast. However, in Charms, Professor Flitwick announces that we'll begin making objects fly.

We have all been dying to do this since he made Neville's toad whizz around the room. Professor Flitwick puts us into pairs and gives us a feather. I am with Dean Thomas, Harry is with Seamus, and Ron is with Hermione, something which neither seem particularly pleased about.

"Not don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing," Professor FLitwick squeaks, perched on a load of books to see over his books. "Swish and flick, remember. And saying the magic words is very important too – never forget Wizard Baruffio who said 's' instead of 'f' and ended up on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."

It's a lot more difficult than it looks – the only thing Dean and I manage to get the feather to do is raise an inch and then flop back onto the desk hopelessly.

A sudden burst of flames from the table next to us makes me jump. I see Harry fanning his feather with his hat and Seamus looking quite sheepish, and I guess that he set it on fire. "Wingardium Leviosa!" I hear Ron shout and watch him wave his arms around before Hermione stops him.

"You're saying it wrong," she snaps," It's Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long."

"You do it then, if you're so clever," Ron growls. Hermione accepts the challenge, rolling up her sleeves. She flicks her wand and clearly says "Wingardium Leviosa!" Their feather rises high off the desk and hovers around four or five feet above our heads. "Oh well done!" Professor Flitwick claps, "Everyone see here, Miss Granger's done it!"

When the excitement and jealousy of Hermione managing to make the feather fly has died down, Dean and I attempt to recreate her wand movement. We see an immediate improvement in our attempts, with our feather rising about a foot and a half above the desks. However, by the end of the lesson, neither of us get it as high as Hermione, although I think mine was second highest.

I stay behind after class, wanting to ask Professor Flitwick about the charms placed on Bludgers that make them fly around. He explains the basics of a long lasting Movement Charm, but ushers me out of the classroom, saying that it is NEWT (Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Test) level work. I frown and walk off but accept the answer.

Sprinting to catch up with Harry and Ron, I see from a little way away Hermione bump into them, tears streaming down her face. I run even faster to catch up with them, concerned about her.

"I think she heard you," Harry says quietly.

"So? She must've noticed she's got no friends," Ron mutters uncomfortably.

"You guys are so horrible to her," I say grumpily. We walk to our next class in silence, and down to the Great Hall after Quidditch practice Ron tries to make small talk. I eventually relent my anger at them, all thoughts of Hermione pushed away by the scent of food. That is, until we overhear Lavender telling Parvati that Hermione spent the afternoon in the girl's toilets, wanting to be left alone.

We enter the Great Hall and are taken aback by the amazing Halloween decorations. A thousand live bats flutter around the ceiling, and a thousand more fly even lower to the tables. Loads of carved pumpkins float high above our heads, the candles above them sputtering due to the bats. The feast lies on the plates, with many people already eating.

I sit down and begin to eat a baked potato. However, I don't get to eat much because at that moment, Professor Quirrell comes sprinting down the hall, turban almost falling off and a look of pure terror on his face. He reaches the teacher's table and slumps against it, gasping "Troll – in the dungeons... Thought you ought to know..."

He falls on the floor in a dead faint. There is a moment of silence while this news sinks in, then all at once there is uproar. It would be comical if it weren't for the reason behind it. It takes several purple firecrackers from Dumbledore's wand to regain silence. "Prefects, lead your Houses back to your dormitories immediately!" he rumbles.

Percy takes action straight away "Follow me! Stick together, First Years! No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders! Stay close behind me now. Make way, First Years coming through. Excuse me, I'm a Prefect!"

"How could a troll get in?" Harry asks as we climb the stairs.

"Don't ask me, they're supposed to be really stupid," Ron shrugs.

"Maybe Peeves let it in for a Halloween joke," I suggest as we pass several groups of people hurrying in different directions/

"I've just thought – Hermione!" Harry grabs Ron's and my arm.

"What about her?" Ron asks snappily.

"She doesn't know about the troll," I say, realisation dawning on me. Ron bites his lip looking dubious. "Oh, all right. But Percy'd better not see us."

We duck down and join the back of the Hufflepuffs. As they head to their common room, we change groups and head down a deserted corridor that leads to the girl's bathroom. I lead the way, seeing as the boys have never needed to go to the girl's toilets. We have just turned the corner of another corridor when we hear footsteps. "Percy!" Ron hisses.

We duck behind a large stone griffin, staying out of sight. However, when we peek around, we see not Percy, but Snape. "What's he doing?" Harry whispers, "Why isn't he down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?"

"Search me..." both Ron and I mumble at the same time.

As quietly as possible, we sidle down the next corridor after Snape's footsteps. "He's heading for the third floor," Harry says, but Ron stops him saying anything else.

"Can you smell something?" he mutters. I sniff. A horrible stench invades my nostrils, a mixture of old socks, owl droppings, and public toilets. And then, a low grunting and footsteps fills the air. Ron points to the end of the corridor, where we see a large shadow of something huge shuffling towards us. We dive, literally for me, into the shadows and watch. The troll is foul – looking. It's twelve feet tall with awful grey skin and a lumpy body. Its head in comparison is tiny and looks odd on top of the body. Its legs are short, reminiscent of tree trunks, and it has flat feet. The smell from earlier grows stronger as it approaches.

The troll stops walking in a doorway, stands for a moment, and then walks inside. "The key is in the lock. We could lock it in," Harry mumbles.

"Good idea," Ron says. We creep towards the door. With a great leap, Harry manages to grab the key and lock the door. We high five and run back up the corridor, but then a loud petrified scream makes my blood run cold. "Oh no!" Ron says, paler than the moonlight.

"It's the girl's bathroom," Harry whispers. I gasp.

"HERMIONE!" We sprint back down and fumble with the key, finally pulling the door open and running in. Hermione is shrinking back against the wall, looking as though she's about to pass out. The troll walks towards her, swinging the club around as it goes and completely destroying the bathroom.

"Confuse it!" Harry says desperately to Ron. I pick up a broken tap and chuck it as hard as possible as I can against the wall, breaking a tile in the process.

The troll stops, distracted by the noise. Suddenly, it spots Harry. A mean look crosses its face and it heads towards him instead. "Oi, Pea-Brain!" Ron yells from behind it, throwing a metal pipe at it. The troll doesn't notice the pipe, but does hear the insult and turns to Ron instead. I dash to Hermione, grabbing her elbow and trying to get her to run. Instead, she remains against the wall in a silent scream of terror.

The shouting and echoes drive the troll insane. It keeps roaring, and advances on Ron. Harry then decides to do something incredibly stupid, albeit brave, and manages to leap onto the troll's back and cling to its neck. The troll obviously couldn't feel Harry, but the boy in question has shoved his wand up its nose. Even a troll will notice that.

It howls in pain, attempting to throw Harry off, flailing the club around. Twice I have to pull Hermione down and duck for fear of it knocking us both out. Ron pulls out his wand, looking as though he has no idea what he is going to do, and shouts what is probably the first spell to enter his mind. "Wingardium Leviosa!"

The club soars out of the troll's hand and turns over, before dropping with a horrible thud on its head. The thing sways on the spot, before falling face forwards. The force makes the room shake.

Hermione is the first to speak, in a squeak she asks "Is is – dead?"

"I don't think so," Harry says, leaning over, "I think it's just been knocked out." He pulls his wand out of the troll's nose. The end is covered in a lumpy grey substance. "Urgh, troll bogies," Harry says in disgust, wiping them off on the troll's trousers.

A sudden slam and loud footsteps makes us look up. I guess we made quite a lot of noise during that battle.

A minute later, Professors McGonagall, Snape and Quirrell come bursting into the room. Quirrell glances once at the troll before whimpering and sitting down on a toilet, clutching his heart. Snape bends over the troll, examining it. Professor McGonagall however glares at us. She looks absolutely terrifying. "What on earth were you thinking of?" she asks us, cold fury in her voice. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"

I stare at my feet, cheeks burning. I know I'm going to be expelled this time. Then a small voice comes out of the shadows "Please, Professor McGonagall – they were looking for me."

"Miss Granger!"

Hermione walks forwards shakily. "I went looking for the troll because I – I thought I could deal with it on my own – you know, because I've read all about them. If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead," she lies. Ron drops his wand, I try to mask my expressions. "Avery distracted it, Harry stuck his wand up its nose and Ron knocked it out with his own club. They didn't have time to fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived."

I try to look as though this is actually what happened, although Hermione would _never_ lie to a teacher. It's as surprising as if Snape were to start handing out sweets and free points to Gryffindor.

"Well - - in that case..." Professor McGonagall starts, staring at us all with a piercing gaze, "Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?" Hermione hangs her head dejectedly.

"Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this. I'm very disappointed in you. If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to Gryffindor Tower. Students are finishing off the feast in their houses." Hermione scurries out the door.

Then, Professor McGonagall turns to us "Well, I still say you were lucky, but not many First Years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll. You each win Gryffindor five points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go."

We run out of the bathroom and hurry through the school. None of us speak until we're a good two floors higher. "We should have gotten more than fifteen points," Ron grumbles.

"Ten, you mean, once she's taken off Hermione's," Harry interrupts.

"Good of her to get us out of trouble like that," Ron admits embarrassedly, "Mind you, we did save her."

WE reach the portrait hole. "Pig snout," I say to the Fat Lady. We enter the noisy common room, full of people eating. Hermione stands alone by the door, waiting for us. "Thanks," we all mutter awkwardly to each other, before hurrying off together to get plates. "Hey Harry, Ron, Hermione," I say suddenly.

They all look up. "Yeah?"

"How about we get some food and go to eat in the boy's dormitory? It'll be less crowded in there, and more quiet. How about it?"

The three agree, and we pile food onto our plates and sneak up the stairs, sitting on the floor in a now companionable silence.

We finish quickly and take our plates back down, before Hermione and I go to bed. Before she climbs into bed, she mumbles another very hurried "Thanks."

I grin, pulling the velvet hangings shut on my bed and laying in the darkness. _I reckon that there are some things you can't do with someone without liking them. I reckon knocking out a twelve foot mountain troll that reeks of death is one of them..._

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**So what did you think? Let me know! Next one will be up soon, I promise!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8! In the same day as Chapter 7! I really wanted you guys to have another chapter so soon, in order to make up for my stressful exams week.**

**There's a new poll on my profile, so if you could check it out, that would be great!**

**Thanks to September And Summer for reviewing Chapter 7! Read September's stories, cos they are awesome!**

**Enjoy, and let me know what you think!**

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As we enter November, we wake up each morning to frosty grounds and iron-grey surroundings. Quidditch Season begins, and Wood begins to press us harder than ever in training. Us Chasers, me, Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell, have to ensure that our teamwork and aim is up to scratch, Harry has to be able to catch the Snitch as soon as possible, and the Beaters, Fred and George, can be seen swinging their Beater's bats around at any moment possible, as if beating off invisible Bludgers.

Our match is on Saturday. With all the extra Quidditch practices, it's lucky that Hermione in our tight-knit circle of friends now. She helps us get through our homework easily, and lends us a copy of Quidditch Through the Ages, which I've already read, but left at home.

IN addition to this, she's become a lot more relaxed about breaking rules. On the day before the match, we are leaning against the wall at break in the grounds with a small jar of blue fire. We have our backs to it. Harry is reading Quidditch Through The Ages. Snape crosses the courtyard. We shuffle together to block the fire jar from view – we're sure it isn't allowed. Unfortunately, we must look particularly guilty, as he limps over and immediately interrogates Harry. "What's that you've got there, Potter?"

Harry shows him. "Library books are not to be taken outside the school," Snape snaps, "Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor."

"He's just made that rule up," Harry mutters angrily as Snape limps off. "Wonder what's wrong with his leg?"

"Dunno, but I hope it's really hurting him," I growl savagely. I think I frightened Hermione a bit with that.

That evening, the Gryffindor Common Room is particularly noisy due to tomorrow's game. We sit near the window, reading through our Charms homework. Hermione and I never let the boys copy ours, but I persuaded Hermione to help me check through them at least.

Sitting on the window ledge, I read Ron's essay, taking a quill and crossing some stuff out every so often. I glance up half way through. Harry looks restless. "I'm going to go ask Snape for my book back," he says determinedly.

"Better you than me," Ron, Hermione and I say together comically. Harry grins and walks out of the Common Room.

"Ron, I've finished reading this through. You had a few mistakes, and you repeated a lot of stuff at the end. Just write out what I haven't crossed out, and add a bit more on wand movement," I hand back the essay.

Now that I have nothing to do, nerves for tomorrow's game of Quidditch begin to fill me. We're playing Slytherin, so we have to win or face Malfoy. But the worries that I won't do very well still flood through me. After five minutes, Harry returns, breathing heavily, flushed, and empty handed. "Did you get it?" Ron asks interestedly, but then he notices something wrong "What's the matter?"

"I went to the staffroom and knocked, but there was no answer. So I decided to look inside to see if Snape had left it in there, but inside, Snape and Filch were standing there. Snape had a really bloody mangled leg, and he said "How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?" So I decided to close the door and back away, but he saw me and I had to run all the way back," he says. A minute of silence follows. "You know what this means? He tried to get past that three headed dog at Halloween! That's where he was going when we say him – he's after whatever it's guarding! And I'd bet my broomstick he let that troll in, to make a diversion!" Harry finishes breathlessly.

Hermione's eyes are as big as saucers. "No – he wouldn't," she says reasonably, "I know he's not very nice, but he wouldn't try and steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe."

"Honestly Hermione, you think all teachers are saints or something," Ron snaps, "I'm with Harry. I wouldn't put anything past Snape. But what's he after? What's the dog guarding?"

"I don't have a clue what it's guarding, but I have to say I'm with Hermione on this one. You'd have to e a complete nutjob to go after something that both the dog and Dumbledore are guarding," I side with Hermione.

We sit in silence for another minute or two, before a combination of sleepiness and nerves overtake me. "I'm going to bed. No use dwelling over the match tomorrow, I'd rather sleep it off," I mumble, sliding off the windowsill. Hermione stands up, saying that she would rather go to bed earlier as well.

As we head towards the dormitories, Dean catches us at the foot of the stairs. "Hey guys, I had an idea for Harry. Ron's in it as well, he's supplying us with a sheet. I have paints, we want to paint a banner for Harry, seeing as he's the Seeker. No offence, Avery, but Seekers have the hardest job on the team," Dean grins.

"None taken. I can help with drawing this banner. When do we do it?" I ask.

"How about we come back down here at half past eleven? By then Harry will have to be asleep," Hermione says. We nod and head 'to bed' where we wait until half eleven comes. I grab my charcoal pencil and pad and slide out the door with our resident KnowItAll, careful not to wake Lily, Lavender or Parvati.

Dean, Ron, Neville and Seamus are already waiting for us. We slip into chairs around a large table and start discussing ideas. We aren't very successful until Neville decides on "Potter For President', which I draw on the 'canvas' (a large bed sheet ruined by Ron's rat, Scabbers) in graffiti style writing.

Underneath, Dean draws a very detailed Gryffindor lion. "We each get three letters to paint," Seamus calculates. I go first, painting P, O and T in three different colours. Neville goes second, Ron third, Dean fourth, Hermione fifth and Seamus sixth. We each paint the letters in rainbow colours, and after it's dry Hermione does a tricky charm that makes the colours flash. Finally, Dean and I paint the Gryffindor lion, and we hide the banner in Dean's trunk.

Finally, Hermione and I slide into bed. Even though I'm really tired, I can't fall asleep. I lie awake in the darkness, my brain being horrible and recalling all the accidents that can happen to a Chaser, many of them involving horrific graphic scenes in my head, most involving a Bludger.

Eventually, my gory brain allows me some sleep. I only get six hours, since Hermione wakes me up at nine o clock. I have to be down on the Quidditch Pitch for eleven o clock, so I don't see the rush. I pull my pyjamas off and change into clean underwear.

Seeing as we have no specific Quidditch clothes other than red and gold robes, boots, knee and elbow pads and gloves, I am free to wear whatever I want, as long as it is plain. Therefore, I pull on some beige leggings and a red long sleeved shirt, deciding to support my house even more. I slide some thick socks on. I had the foresight to place my thickest pair of socks by the fire last night, and they're already nice and warm on my feet.

Finally, I pull my trainers on and we head downstairs for breakfast. The Great Hall is full of excited chatter about the game, but I don't have the same vibes. On the contrary, I feel like I'm going to throw up. Harry doesn't look much better.

"You've both got to eat some breakfast," Ron says. He sits on Harry's left side. I sit on Harry's other side, with Hermione on my right. "I'm not hungry," I mumble tersely, while Harry replies with a very nervous "I don't want anything."

"Just a bit of toast," Hermione wheedles. I attempt to bite the corner of a piece of toast to keep her quiet, but my stomach lurches. "I'm not hungry," Harry says.

"Harry, you need your strength. Seekers are always the ones who get clobbered by the other team. And Avery, the Slytherin Beaters have a habit of attacking the other team's Chasers to stop them scoring," Seamus says cheerfully, drowning mine and Harry's sausages in tomato sauce.

"Thanks for the help in nerves, Seamus," I mumble sarcastically. He grins and pushes the plate towards me. I groan quietly and try to take a bite but I end up eating no more than one sausage. Quite soon, Wood walks over and tells us to meet him in the locker rooms with our brooms in fifteen minutes. Harry and I say goodbye to them, and we sprint up to our dormitories to fetch the Nimbus Two Thousands. AS I straighten up from my trunk, I see Sooty sitting on the headboard of my bed with a letter.

_Dear Avery,_

_This is a short note, because we know you won't have time to read it._

_Good luck with your first Quidditch game! We know you can beat Slimy Slytherin! Don't give up, and don't go hugging any Bludgers!_

_Let us know what happened in your next letter,_

_Love, Mum and Dad!_

I stroke Sooty's head affectionately and run down to meet Harry. We dash down to the locker rooms on the outside of the stadium. The rest of the team is already there, half changed into their robes. I head to my locker, balancing my Nimbus against the wall and pulling on my red and gold robes. Angelina and Katie Bell, the other Chaser, help me with my elbow and knee pads, and I slide into the ankle boots with relative ease. The gloves are last to go on, and they surprisingly don't make flexing or clenching my hands any harder.

"Okay men," Wood clears his throat for silence.

"And women," Angelina inputs.

"And women," Wood corrects himself, "This is it."

"The big one," Fred says.

"The one we've all been waiting for," George grins.

"We know Oliver's speech by heart. We were on the team last year," Fred tells me and Harry.

"Shut up, you two," Wood scowls, "This is the best team Gryffindor's had in years. We're going to win, I know it." He glares at us all, as if daring us to challenge him.

"Right. It's time. Good luck, all of you," Wood leads us out. Nerves wash over me and I feel completely numb. I walk inbetween Katie and Angelina onto the pitch, to the loud roars of everyone except Slytherin.

Madam Hooch is refereeing the game. She stands in the exact centre of the pitch, holding her broom and waiting for us.

"Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you," she says sternly, although she seems to be speaking more to the Slytherin team, more specifically the captain, Marcus Flint, who is a sixth year that Wood told us about a little while ago.

"Mount your brooms please," I climb onto the Nimbus and wait. After what seems like an age, Madam Hooch blows her whistle and we're off. I swoop instantly down and grab the Quaffle, not able to hear anything due to the wind roaring in my ears. I pass to Angelina, who flies for a second before passing back to me. Spotting a chance, I throw the red ball to Katie who flies, but then Flint flies straight across her path, blocking her and making her drop the Quaffle.

I fly after him, catching up easily with the Nimbus. He manages to reach the goalpost and attempts to score, but then, Wood blocks it and throw it to me. Catching it easily, I swerve around and bolt back down. With no free way to pass to either Angelina or Katie, I spy my fellow Chasers motioning to me to keep going.

Flint attempts to take the Quaffle, but I dive around him and lean forwards. I am almost within passing range when a painful thud against the back of my skull makes me drop the ball in pain. I hear angry roars and hear the commentator Lee Jordan shout "That must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger."

I shake my head to clear my vision, feeling a lump rise on the back of my head, and fly towards Angelina. She passes the Quaffle in a long shot and I grab it by my fingertips, heading closer and closer to the goalpost. I turn sharply left and shoot. The Keeper, Bletchley, dives, misses. I score! Gryffindor cheers fill the cold air and I punch my fist in a moment of success.

We fly around for a little while, neither side really scoring, until I hear Lee Jordan shout "wait a moment, was that the Snitch?"

The Slytherin Chaser, Adrian Pucey, drops the Quaffle as a ball of gold shoots past his ear. I spot Harry begin to dive, I see the Slytherin Seeker Terrence Higgs begin to shoot upwards All of us Chasers on both sides hang in mid air to watch, forgetting all about the game. Together, they race neck and neck, but then **WHAM**!

Marcus Flint flies straight into Harry, blocking him deliberately. Harry spins off course, holding onto his broom for dear life.

We resume play after he is back to normal, Katie puts the Quaffle through the hoop easily. IN fact, we play for another five minutes during which time Slytherin scores a few times before shouts and screams start to distract us all again. Everyone is pointing at Harry. I glance up – our Seeker is fighting his broom which appears to be out of control. Suddenly, a wild jerk of the broom leaves Harry hanging on for dear life by one hand.

The Weasley twins soar up and attempt to get close enough to Harry to pull him onto one of their brooms, but every time they get near, the broom leaps even higher. They eventually settle for circling underneath him, hoping to catch him if he falls. At a nod from Angelina, I join them, hovering between the circling twins and watching the broom's every movement.

And then, all of a sudden, he is able to swing back onto his broom. He makes a huge dive for the ground, when he claps his hands to his mouth as though he is about to through up. I soar downwards, all thoughts of the game forgotten. Harry falls onto his hands and knees, his broom landing next to him, and he coughs something small up.

"I've got the Snitch!" he yells, displaying something golden in his fists. There is complete confusion. I seem to recover first from his spectacular catch and fly forwards, pulling Harry onto the back of my broom and circling the stadium in a victory lap before Wood calls us all down to the ground. Gryffindors circle us on the pitch as we fight to reach the locker rooms. Harry hands the Snitch over to Madam Hooch as Lee Jordan shouts the scores over and over again – Gryffindor, 170, Slytherin, 60.

I pull my leather pads and gloves off and me, Harry, Hermione and Ron head with Hagrid back to his hut for some tea. Well, seeing as I don't actually like tea **(AN: Anarchy in the UK! *Gasps* I'm English and I detest tea. My family thinks I'm weird...)**, I have hot chocolate instead.

"It was Snape," Ron explains the dodgy broom thing, "Hermione and I saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off you."

A short silence follows, which I break with "That's a little creepy if you think about it the way I just did. A grown man not taking his eyes off a young boy riding a broomstick."

"Rubbish," Hagrid says, seemingly ignoring me, "Why would Snape do somethin' like that?"

We all glance at each other knowingly. "I found out something about him," Harry tells Hagrid, "He tried to get past that three headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it's guarding."

Hagrid drops his teapot with a loud crash. The teapot shatters, luckily it had nothing in it. Hermione waves her wand and mutters "Reparo!" and the shards fly back together.

"How do you know about Fluffy?" Hagrid asks us incredulously.

"Fluffy?"

"Yeah – he's mine – bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year – lent him toDumbledore to guard the –"

"Yes?" prompts Harry eagerly.

"Now don't ask me anymore. That's top secret that is," Hagrid says gruffly.

"But Snape's trying to steal it!"

"Rubbish," repeats Hagrid, "Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothin' of the sort."

"So why did he just try to kill Harry?" Hermione cries. "I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid, and Snape wasn't blinking at all, I saw him!"

"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!" Hagrid argues heatedly, "I don' know why Harry's room acted like that, but Snape wouldn' try an' kill a student! Now listen to me, all four of yeh – yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin'. That's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel –"

"Aha!" Harry yells, "So there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?"

Hagrid looks absolutely furious with himself. We sit in silence for a long time, during which Hagrid continues to look grumpy and guilty. Finally, as we're leaving, I say "I can't believe you named that vicious three headed dog Fluffy, and your pathetic boarhound Fang. Shouldn't it be the other way around?" Hagrid scowls and ushers us out, slamming the door. We grin at each other, grateful for a new lead in our investigation, and head upstairs for free time, and eventually bed.

**BOOM! Let me know what you think!**


	9. Chapter 9

**What's this? Chapter 9! YAY!**

**Thanks for the reviews guys, it means a lot. :D**

* * *

Christmas is coming. IN fact, it is about mid-December when we first get snow. The lake is completely frozen, and the Weasley twins are punished for charming several snowballs to follow Quirrell around and bounce off the back of his turban. Only several owls manage to get through the storm, and they have to be nursed back to health. I haven't sent Sooty out since when I told Mum and Dad that we'd won our game of Quidditch.

We couldn't wait for the holidays to start. The corridors are freezing, but that's nothing compared to the dungeons, where every Potions lesson we attempt to stay as close to the cauldron as possible.

"I do feel so sorry," Malfoy starts one Potions lesson, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted." He says this while watching our table. Our tale consists of Hermione and me on one cauldron and Harry and Ron on another. Crabbe and Goyle chuckle. Malfoy has become more unpleasant since Slytherin lost Quidditch. Disgusted that they lost, he has tried to make everyone laugh at his joke that a wide-mouthed tree frog would replace Harry as Seeker. When no one laughed, he went back to taunting Harry about having no proper family. I think it's a bit pathetic.

It's true though. Harry, Ron and I are all staying for Christmas. Professor McGonagall had come around about two weeks ago to make a list of who was staying. Like my parents, Mr and Mrs Weasley were going abroad, so Ron was staying along with his brothers.

As we leave the dungeons at the end of Potions, we find a large fir tree blocking the way. Two large feet at the bottom show that the person carrying it is Hagrid. "Hi Hagrid, want any help?" Ron asks, shoving his head through the branches.

"Nah, I'm alright, thanks, Ron," Hagrid replies.

"Would you mind moving out of the way?" Malfoy's usual drawl comes from behind us. "Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be a gamekeeper when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose – that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to."

Ron turns brilliant red and dives at Malfoy, just as Snape walks up the stairs. "WEASLEY!" Ron lets go of Malfoy's robes

"He was provoked, Professor Snape," Hagrid says, "Malfoy was insultin' his family."

"Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid," Snape says silkily, "Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn't more. Move along, all of you."

Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and Snape push past the tree, showering needles everywhere. "I'll get him. One of these days I'll get him.." Ron snarls.

"I hate them both. Malfoy and Snape," Harry says.

"Come on, cheer up, it's nearly Christmas!" grins Hagrid, "Tell yeh what, come with me an' see the Great Hall, looks a treat!" So we follow Hagrid and his tree to the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick are finishing the Christmas decorations. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hang all around the walls, with twelve trees standing dotted around, some covered in minute icicles, and some covered in hundreds of tiny candles.

"How many days you got let until yer holidays?" Hagrid asks.

"Just one," Hermione says brightly, "And that reminds me – Harry, Ron, Avery, we've got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library."

"Oh yeah, you're right," Ron mumbles, distracted by Professor Flitwick who has golden bubbles streaming out of his wand.

"The library?" Hagrid asks, "Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren't yeh?"

"Oh, we're not working," I grin.

"Even since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel we've been trying to find out who he is," Harry explains happily.

"You what?" Hagrid is completely shocked, "Listen here – I've told yeh – drop it. It's nothin' to you what that dog's guardin'."

"We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is," Hermione says.

"Unless you'd like to tell us and save us the trouble?" Harry hints, "We must've been through hundreds of books already and we can't find him anywhere – just give us a hint – I know I've read his name somewhere."

"I'm sayin' nothing," Hagrid says flatly. I sigh exaggeratedly.

"Just have to find out for ourselves then," Ron says. We leave Hagrid looking quite disgruntled and hurry to the library.

Hermione pulls out a list of titles and she and I pore over it. "I'll go find 'Amazing Recent Magical Discoveries'," I say, jogging off around the library and finding the book. Amazing Recent Magical Discoveries is not a small book. It takes all my upper body strength to ferry it back to the desk, and it takes a lot of effort in order to not slam it. "Great, although I thought it would be bigger," Hermione says, looking a bit put out.

"Smaller? _Smaller?_ You're completely insane!" I say incredulously.

Poring over the pages, I find absolutely nothing to do with Flamel. In fact, the entire book takes so long to get through that Hermione has already searched through ten books by the time Madam Pince ushers us out. "Find anything?" Harry asks hopefully. We shake our heads and head off to lunch.

"You will keep looking while I'm away, won't you?" says Hermione, "And send me an owl if you find anything." We all nod and head to lunch on our last day of the first term.

Once the holidays start, the Common Room is a lot emptier than usual, and as a result, Harry, Ron and I have way too much time on our hands to have fun and not think about Flamel. I get the girl's dormitory to myself, but as it's a little lonely I bring my mattress and bed stuff and sleep in the boy's dormitory. We are able to get good spots by the warm fire, and are able to sit for as long as we want toasting stuff over the fire. Stuff that Fred and George nick from the kitchens usually. In addition to this, we come up with some awesome yet unfeasible ways of getting Malfoy expelled.

Ron and I start teaching Harry wizard chess. Ron uses an old set from his grandfather, and Harry borrows Seamus's set, which doesn't trust him at all. They keep shouting different bits of advice at him. It sounds harsh, but it's quite funny to watch him struggle with them.

On Christmas morning I am woken up by Harry throwing his pillow at me. "Merry Christmas," I mumble blearily. Ron echoes me.

"You too," Harry grins, "Will you look at this? I've got some presents!"

"What did you expect, turnips?" Ron asks incredulously. I turn to my pile at the foot of the bed and stand up, grabbing the pile and shifting it onto Ron's bed and starting to unwrap. As I pick up my first one, a strange soft lumpy one, Ron turns bright red. "Err... that's probably my Mum. I told her that neither of you expected a present from her, but she's... she's made you a Weasley sweater..."

I grin and unwrap it, finding a large light blue jumper with a red Quaffle in the middle. "This is really cool! Hey Harry, do you reckon Wood would let me wear this to our next match?" I say, slightly muffled due to the fact that I'm pulling the jumper over my head.

My next present is from Hagrid. I open it to find a roughly carved owl which looks like Sooty. From Hermione I receive a set of books all about Defence Against the Dark Arts, Charms, and Transfiguration. From Harry I get a miniature broomstick servicing kit, Ron gets me a huge pack of sugar quills. Mum and Dad sent their presents, and I get a new pair of Quidditch gloves, some odd colour changing ink, a new set of charcoal pencils, a Gryffindor scarf, and a pad of paper that is apparently really good for sketching natural pictures. Finally from Laura I get a hand sewn cuddly Gryffindor Lion. Laura's always been good at this odd crafty stuff.

A rustling of material distracts me from the sugar quill I am currently eating. "I've heard of those," Ron says in a hushed voice. I look up and see a pile of silvery grey material lying on the floor and gasp, recognising it instantly. "If that's what I think it is – they're really rare and really valuable.

"What is it?" Harry asks, picking the material up and examining it.

"It's an invisibility cloak – I'm sure it is – try it on!" I say excitedly.

Harry throws the cloak around his shoulders, and his body from the neck downwards disappears. Both Ron and I let out a yell. "It is! Look down!"

Harry looks down and jumps back in shock, noticing that his body has disappeared. He pulls it over his head, watching his reflection entirely vanish in the mirror. "There's a note! A note fell out!" Harry looks down and seizes a letter that fell out of the cloak.

"I'd give anything for one of these... anything!" Ron mumbles, looking at the cloak reverently. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Harry says, in a somewhat strained voice. I shrug and turn back to my sugar quill. However, I can't focus on it for very long because the Weasley twuns decide that this time is the perfect time to bound into our dormitory, shouting "Merry Christmas!" Harry shoves the cloak into his trunk hurriedly.

"Hey look! Harry and Avery have Weasley sweaters, too!" The twins are wearing light blue sweaters like mine, but theirs have a large yellow F and G on them. "Their ones are better than ours though," Fred says, "She obviously makes more of an effort if you're not family."

"Why aren't you wearing yours, Ron?" George demands fiercely, "Come on, get it on, they're lovely and warm."

"I hate maroon..." Ron mutters as he pulls the jumper on.

"You haven't got a letter on yours," George says, "I suppose she thinks you don't forget your name. But we're not stupid – we know we're called Gred and Forge."

"What's all this noise?" Percy Weasley shoves his head through the door looking disapproving. He too has a Weasley jumper flung over his arm, which Fred seizes delightedly.

"P for Prefect! Get it on, Percy, come on, we're all wearing ours. Even Harry and Avery got one," Fred yells.

"I – don't – want – " Percy stutters thickly as the twins force the jumper over his head, knocking his glasses. "And you're not sitting with the prefects today, either," George says. "Christmas is a time for family." And with that they frog march Percy from the room with his arms pinned to his sides by the sweater.

We sit for a moment to take in what just happened before deciding we should get dressed. I slip back into the girl's dormitory and change into a dark grey wintery skirt, black woolly tights and a red shirt before pulling the knitted sweater back on. I slip my boots on and together, Ron, Harry and I head downstairs to the Common Room and sit for a few hours chatting with the twins.

At around twelve o clock we walk down to the Great Hall for Christmas dinner. I have honestly never seen so much food in all my life – it looks amazing! Multiple huge roasted turkeys, boiled and roasted potatoes, platters of chipolatas, buttered peas, thick gravy in lots of jugs, cranberry sauce – and wizard crackers. Our family never used wizard crackers at Christmas for the pure reason that they're relatively hard to get.

I grab one and pull it with Fred Weasley. When a bang like a gunshot echoes through the hall and purple smoke fills the air, I slip backwards off the bench in fright, turning crimson when everyone starts laughing. I pull another cracker, this time with George, and I am ready for the noise. Out of this cracker flies a tiny baby mouse. It runs away in fear, so I coax it out with some food. Eventually it begins to trust me and I place it in my lap where it sits comfortably for the entire meal.

When we're all fit to bursting with the amazing food, we finish off the crackers. I end up with a huge pile of things from them, such as non exploding balloons, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, a wizard chess set, a miniature bottle of purple ink, and a tiny toy cat.

We take our things upstairs. The baby white mouse sits happily on my shoulder as I find a small box to make it a temporary house. Settling for a shoebox that George lends me, I shred some tissue for a bed, poke some holes in the lid and set it down with some water and food. After this, I pull my Gryffindor scarf on and head down to the grounds where Harry, Ron, Fred, George and I, and even Percy, have a furious snowball fight.

I team up with Fred and George against Harry, Ron and Percy as we chuck snow at one another. Our team's tactics are pretty awesome. During the ten minute prep time we self-allocate, George and I build a thick wall as protection, while Fred gathers a stockpile of snowballs.

"And GO!" Ron roars. I instantly pick up a snowball and pretend to aim for Harry. When said person ducks, I throw to my actual target who is Percy, hitting him straight in the face and knocking his glasses off.

Ron throws his snowball and hits Fred in the arm. George throws and hits Ron. I throw and hit Harry. The afternoon continues like this until we can no longer see, by which point we call it a draw and head up to the Common Room where I get my mouse and sit in front of the fire to dry off. "What should I call him?" I ask.

"Dunno. How about Cracker, since that's where you got him"? Harry suggests.

"Cracker..." I ponder. The mouse pokes me with his nose, so I assume he likes it. "Cracker it is then." I sit and stroke my new pet, reminding myself to ask Hagrid if he has any small rodent sized cages.

At around seven o clock, we have a meal of turkey sandwiches, crumpets, trifle and Christmas cake and watch Percy chase the twins around the tower because they stole his badge. When my eye lids start to droop, I head up to change into pyjamas and climb into bed. Sooty hoots softly at me from across the room, and I decide to introduce him to Cracker.

Apprehensively I hold the baby mouse in front of my owl. Holding my breath, I watch as Sooty examines him, turning his eyes from him to me and hooting again. Cracker stands on his hind legs and uses his whiskery nose to sniff Sooty. The owl doesn't try to eat him, so I assume that they can live with each other and release my breath.

With Cracker back in his box with half a crumpet from dinner and Sooty across the room eating some turkey, I fall asleep, very full and very content.

"You could have woken us up!" Ron grumbles.

"You can come tonight. I'm going back – I want to show you the mirror," Harry says in an excited whisper.

"I'd like to see your Mum and Dad," Ron says eagerly.

"And I want to see all your family, all the Weasleys. You'll be able to show me your older brothers and everyone," Harry grins.

"I'll pass on this mirror that you're so hyped up about. Seems like too much effort to go traipsing around the school at midnight," I mumble tiredly, having been woken up early by Harry.

We don't do much all day. We go to visit Hagrid, who is suffering from a slight hangover. "Do you have a mouse sized cage that I could use, Hagrid?" I ask.

"Show me your new pet then," he says.

"I notice that you assume I have a pet and that I don't need it for a school project or something," I grin, pulling Cracker out of my pocket and passing him to Hagrid. Our hairy friend pulls a wooden cage out of a corner of the hut and places Cracker inside. "Here you go, you might as well take this food as well," he hands me the cage and a bag of mouse food. I thank him and set the cage down, watching Cracker get used to the new house.

That night, Harry and Ron head off to this mirror that they're so worked up about while I sleep more. It seems much better than wandering around the castle at stupid hours.

Harry decides to go again for the third night running, but this time, when he comes back, he tells us that Dumbledore was at the mirror. "He convinced me not to go looking for the mirror," Harry explains.

However, over the rest of the holidays Harry starts having nightmares. "You see, Dumbledore was right, that mirror could drive you mad," Ron says.

"I don't really get nightmares, so I don't have much support to offer you," I say, quite cheerful despite the mood of the conversation.

Hermione comes back the day before term starts, and she has a torn view on it. She's torn between horror that Harry and Ron went roaming the castle for three nights in a row, and disappointment that they hadn't at least used it to find out some more information on Flamel. To be honest, I hadn't given him much thought.

We've pretty much given up on finding Flamel in a library book, even though Harry insists he's read the name somewhere. However, once the term starts, we're back to skimming through books with the ten minutes we get every so often. Harry and I have even less time than the other two due to Quidditch practice.

Wood is working us harder than ever. The endless rain that comes with spring doesn't dampen his spirits. The twins complain that Wood's obsessed, yet I am on our Captain's side – if we win this match against Hufflepuff, we overtake Slytherin in the house championship for the first time in seven years.

During one disgustingly wet and muddy practice, Wood presents us with bad news. We're currently in the air, and Wood is currently extremely angry with the Weasleys who keep dive-bombing each other and pretending to fall off their brooms.

"Will you stop messing around!" he roars, "That's exactly the sort of thing that'll lose us the match! Snape's refereeing this time, and he'll be looking or any excuse to knock points off Gryffindor!"

George actually does fall off his broom and lands in the mud just below me. Sputtering through a mouth of mud, he says "Snape's refereeing?! When's he ever refereed a Quidditch match? He's not going to be fair if we overtake Slytherin."

We all land next to George and start to complain as well. "It's not my fault," Wood says, "we've just got to make sure we play a clean game, so Snape hasn't got an excuse to pick on us."

"That's all well and good, but we have a more serious reason to not go near the overgrown bat," I mutter to Harry as we head to change and stow our brooms and stuff away. He nods, pulling a jumper on. I do the same and slide into my boots, preparing to run through the grounds to avoid the rain. However, this doesn't go to plan, and I manage to skid and slip onto my knees.

Ignoring Harry's stifled laughter I continue to sprint through the mud, shaking water from my head and waiting for him.

Back in the Common Room we find Ron and Hermione playing chess. Hermione often loses spectacularly at this, which we all reckon is good for her. "Why are you covered in mud?" Hermione asks, glancing at my knees. Harry snorts. "Fell over. We have a more pressing matter at hand."

"What's the matter with you? You look terrible," Ron says, ever the observant one.

"Snape's refereeing the match," Harry mutters.

"Don't play," Hermione says at once.

"Say you're ill," Ron suggests.

"Pretend to break your leg," Hermione says.

"Really break your leg," says Ron.

"I can't, there isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at all," Harry sighs.

At that moment, Neville topples through the portrait hole with his legs stuck together. We recognise it as the leg locker curse. Everyone starts laughing except us four. Hermione leaps up and performs the countercurse. Neville stands up shakily and walks over to us, sitting down. "What happened?" asks Hermione.

"Mafoy," Neville trembles, "I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on."

"Go to Professor McGonagall," Hermione urges, "Report him!"

"I don't want more trouble," Neville shakes his head.

"You've got to stand up to him, Neville!" Ron says, "He's used to walking all over people, but that's no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier."

"There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor. Malfoy's already done that," Neville chokes.

Harry pulls a chocolate frog out of his robes and gives it to Neville, who accepts it looking like he's about to cry. "You're worth twelve of Malfoy," he says, "The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn't it? And where's Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin."

Neville smiles slightly as he unwraps the frog. "Thanks, Harry... I think I'll go to bed... D'you want the card? You collect them don't you?"

Neville hands the card over and walks off. Harry glances at the card. "Dumbledore again. He was the first one I ever –" Harry gasps. He reads the back of the card excitedly. "I've found him..." he whispers, "I've found Flamel! I told you I'd read his name somewhere before, I read it on the train coming here – listen to this: Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon blood, and for his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flame!"

Hermione jumps to her feet as though she's been stung. She looks more excited than when we received the marks for our first bit of homework. "Stay there!" she says, dashing off. We only just have time to look at each other before she's back, carrying a huge book in her arms. "I never thought to look in here," she whispers, "I got this out of the library weeks go for a bit of light reading."

"Light?" Ron asks incredulously. Hermione shushes him and continues flicking through the pages.

"I knew it. I knew it!"

"Are we allowed to speak yet?" says Ron grumpily. Hermione ignores him.

"Nicolas Flamel," she says dramatically, "Is the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone!"

This does not have the intended effect. "Huh?" I ask.

"Oh honestly, don't you three read? Look – read that there!"

She pushes the book towards us. I read the paragraph that she points out.

**The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Philosopher's Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal.**

**There have been many reports of the Philosopher's Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist and opera lover. Mr. Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight).**

"See?" Hermione grins. "The dog must be guarding Flamel's Philosopher's Stone! I bet he asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him, because they're friends and he knew someone was after it, that's why he wanted the Stone moved out of Gringotts!"

"A stone that makes gold and stops you from ever dying!" Harry says in awe, "No wonder Snape's after it! Anyone would want it!"

"And no wonder we couldn't find Flamel in that Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry," Ron reasons, "He's not exactly recent if he's six hundred and sixty five, is he?"

The next morning in Defence Against the Dark Arts we continue to discuss the Philosopher's Stone, and what we'd do with it if we had it, while copying down different ways of treating werewolf bites. In fact, it isn't until Ron says that he would buy his own Quidditch team that we remember the upcoming match and the Overgrown Bat Problem.

"I'm going to play. If I don't, all the Slytherins will think I'm too scared to face Snape. I'll show them... it'll really wipe the smiles off their faces if we win," Harry decides.

"Just as long as we're not wiping you off the field," Hermione says worriedly.

As the match draws near, Harry seems to grow more and more nervous. I surprise myself by being the only member on the team who is getting more and more excited at the prospect of overtaking Slytherin. Even if it means paying with Snape as referee.

As Ron and Hermione wish us luck, I can tell by their faces that they are wondering whether they'll see Harry alive again. While this isn't exactly comforting, it boosts my determination to win.

Wood has his pep talk while I slip into my robes, before he walks over, pulling Harry into a corner and mumbling rapidly. I hide my wand in my inside pocket. "The whole school's out there," Fred comments, "Even – blimey – Dumbledore's come to watch!"

A wave of relief washes over me – there's no way Snape would dare jinx Harry with Dumbledore watching. I see the same thought on Harry's face. "Dumbledore!" he says, running to the door and checking.

Wood gulps visibly and ushers us out onto the pitch. In his haste, he nearly makes me forget my broomstick, which I grab at the last second.

Snape is the one who's standing in the centre of the court this time. He doesn't bother with a speech, just counts down and blows the whistle. Instantly we rocket into the air. I snatch up the Quaffle and soar off to the end, Angelina signalling to pass it to me. However, the whistle is blown before I get a chance to pass it.

Hufflepuff have a penalty because George Weasley hit a Bludger at Snape. I scowl and throw the Quaffle to the Hufflepuff Chasers. They zoom to our end and shoot, but Wood blocks it. We play for another thirty seconds before Snape awards another penalty to Hufflepuff for no reason. Fuming, Katie literally chucks the Quaffle at them.

Again, the shot at the hoops is blocked by Wood. We continue play for a minute with no successful penalties. Then, Harry springs into a spectacular dive, drawing gasps and cheers from the ground. Everyone stops play. I spot a tiny golden glimmer near Snape as Harry zooms forwards.

I watch Snape turn around his broom just in time to see Harry shoot past him missing by inches. Another tense second passes before Harry pulls out of the dive, arm raised in triumph, the Snitch clasped in his hand.

I whistle loudly in elation, I can hear Hermione shrieking all the way in the stands. Harry leaps down from his broom a foot off the ground. We all land around him. I spy Dumbledore talking to Harry quietly, as Gryffindors crowd onto the pitch. We flood back to the locker room and change, marvelling at how pretty much no goals were scored and how the game barely lasted five minutes. "It must be a new record!" Katie grins.

"Fastest time yet, definitely," Fred agrees.

Hermione, Ron and I wait for Harry in the Entrance Hall. He takes forever, and we are beginning to worry about him when he turns up, breathless and sweaty. "Harry, where have you been?!" Hermione and I squeal at the same time.

"We won! You won! We won!" Ron yells, thumping Harry on the back, "And I gave Malfoy a black eye, and Neville tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle single-handed! He's still out cold but Madam Pomfrey says he'll be alright – talk about showing Slytherin! Everyone's waiting for you in the Common Room, we're having a party, Fred and George stole some cakes and stuff from the kitchens."

"Never mind that now," Harry pants, "Let's find an empty room, you wait 'til you hear about this..."

We run to an empty classroom where Harry rushes to tell us about what he's just seen. "Snape and Quirrell, they were having an argument in the Forbidden Forest..." he explains.

"So we were right, it is the Philosopher's Stone, and Snape's trying to force Quirrell to help him get it. He asked if he knew how to get past Fluffy – and he said something about Quirrell's 'hocus pocus' - I reckon there are other things guarding the stone apart from Fluffy, loads of enchantments, probably, and Quirrell would have done some anti-Dark Arts spell that Snape needs to break through."

"So you mean the Stone's only safe as long as Quirrell stands up to Snape?" Hermione asks in alarm.

"It'll be gone by next Tuesday," Ron says.

**So let me know what you think! Leave a review, constructive criticism or a flame, if you really want! Next chapter will be up soon, if the innocent cat sitting next to me doesn't decide to delete my entire chapter like she did a few hours ago - luckily I had a backup of three quarters, so it wasn't too much effort to finish typing!**

**Bye!**


	10. Chapter 10

**I made a slight mistake and left out about a thousand words when first posting this chapter - so here it is again! Chapter 10 everybody!**

**Again, thanks to SJHP for following and favouriting - it means a lot!**

**And take two - here it is!**

* * *

In the weeks that follow the Quidditch match, Quirrell proves us wrong, he's braver than we thought. While he is getting paler and thinner as though he hasn't eaten or slept well, he doesn't look like he's cracked yet.

Whenever we pass the third floor corridor, we press our ears to the door to make sure that Fluffy is still there. Snape still has a bad temper, proving that the Stone is still safe. I notice that whenever Harry passes Quirrell, he gives an encouraging smile, and I decide to do the same. Ron starts to tell people off for laughing at Quirrell's stutter.

Hermione, on the other hand, has more important things on her mind than the Philosopher's Stone. She nags us endlessly to draw schedules for studying, to colour-code our notes just like she is. "Hermione, the exams are ages away," Ron whines.

"Ten weeks," she snaps tetchily, "That's not ages. That's like a second to Nicolas Flamel."

"But we're not six hundred," Ron reminds her, "Anyway, what are you studying for? You already know it all!"

"What am I studying for? Are you crazy? You realise, we need to pass these exams to get into the second year? They're very important, I should have started studying a month ago, I don't know what's gotten into me..."

The teachers seem to be thinking along the same lines as us. They pile so much homework onto us that the Easter holidays aren't nearly as fun as the Christmas ones. It's extremely hard to relax, which is what we originally planned, when we have to run through the entire year's notes, stealing Hermione's History of Magic ones when she isn't looking because she's the only one who does anything in History of Magic. We spend most of our free time revising, but I am grateful for it, because I never realised that I have forgotten a lot of the stuff. However, I neglect to tell Hermione deliberately, so that I am spared the "I told you!".

"I'll never remember this!" Ron bursts out in the library one afternoon. He looks longingly out the window at the sky outside. It's a beautiful day, the first we've had in months. The sky is an amazing blue, and we can tell that summer is coming.

I ignore it, otherwise I'll get distracted, looking up uses of unicorn blood in potion making. "Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?" Ron asks.

Hagrid shuffles guiltily into our view, hiding something behind his back. "Jus' lookin'," he says in a shifty voice. This gains our interest. "An' what're you lot up ter?" he says, suddenly suspiscious. "Yer not still lookin' for Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?"

"Oh, we found out who he is ages ago," Ron says proudly, "And we know what that dog's guarding. It's a Philosopher's St—"

"SHHH!" Hagrid glances around wildly, "Don' go shoutin' about it, what's the matter with yeh?"

"There are a few things we wanted to ask you about, as a matter of fact," Harry remembers our discussion, "about what's guarding the Stone apart from Fluffy—"

"SHHH!" Hagrid whispers wildly, "Listen – come an' see me later, I'm not promisin' I'll tell yeh anythin', mind, but don' go rabbitin' about it in here, students aren' s'pposed ter know. They'll think I've told yeh-"

"See you later, then," Harry smiles. Hagrid nods and shuffles off.

"What was he hiding behind his back?" Hermione wonders thoughtfully.

"Do you think it had anything to do with the Stone?" Harry asks.

"I'm going to see what section he was in," says Ron. He marches off and we can hear him thumping books around. A minute later, he returns, puffing, holding a huge pile of books in his arms. Slamming them down on the table, he spreads them out and whispers "Dragons."

"Blimey! Bit too much for a gamekeeper, eh?" I grin, not taking him seriously.

"Hagrid was looking up stuff about dragons! Look at these: Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland; from Egg to Inferno, A Dragon Keeper's Guide."

"Hagrid's always wanted a dragon, he told me so the first time I ever met him," Harry says.

"But it's against our laws," Ron explains, sifting through the books again, "Dragon breeding was outlawed by the Warlock's Convention of 1709, everyone knows that. It's hard to stop Muggles from noticing us if we're keeping dragons in the back garden – anyway, you can't tame dragons, it's dangerous. You should see the burns Charlie's got off the wild ones in Romania."

"But there aren't wild dragons in Britain?" Harry asks.

"Of course there are," I grin at his expression.

"Common Welsh Green and Hebridean Blacks. The Ministry of Magic has a job hushing them up, I can tell you. Our kind have to keep putting spells on Muggles who've spotted them, to make them forget."

"So what on earth's Hagrid up to?" Hermione ponders. We think for a few minutes, but return to studying. I manage to get all my Potions revision done, which is a success, and get bored waiting for the others to finish. An hour later, we head down to Hagrid's hut and pound on the door. "Who is it?" we hear. This is a bit pointless as he lets us un anyway.

It's like a sauna in here! The curtains are all drawn, the windows are shut, and there's a fire going, even though it's a lovely warm day today. Hagrid makes us tea and offers us stoat sandwiches, which we refuse. "So – yeh wanted to ask me somethin'?"

"Yes," Harry says instantly, "We were wondering if you could tell us what's guarding the Philosopher's Stone apart from Fluffy."

"O' course I can't," Hagrid frowns at us, "Number one, I don' know meself. Number two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn' tell yeh if I could. That Stone's here for a good reason. It was almost stolen outta Gringotts – I s'ppose yeh've worked that out an' all? Beats me how yeh even know abou' Fluffy."

"Oh, come on, Hagrid! You might not want to tell us, but you do know, you know everything that goes on round here," Hermione beams flatteringly, "we only wondered who had done the guarding, really. We wondered who Dumbledore had trusted enough to help him, apart from you." Hagrid's chest swells proudly. We beam at Hermione. I lean over and whisper almost inaudibly "Genius!"

"Well, I don' s'pose it could hurt ter tell yeh that... let's see... he borrowed Fluffy from me... then some o' the teachers did enchantments... Professor Sprout, Professor McGonagall... Professor Flitwick... Professor Quirrell – an' Dumbledore did somethin' himself, o' course. Hang on, I've forgotten someone... Oh yeah, Professor Snape."

"Snape?"

"Yeah – yeh not still on abou' that, are yeh? Look, Snape helped protect the Stone. He's not about ter steal it."

I know that Harry, Ron and Hermione are thinking exactly the same thing as I am. If Snape is in on protecting the Stone, it must be easy to find out how everyone else is guarding it. However, he hasn't found out what Quirrell is doing to guard it, or how to get past Fluffy.  
"You're the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy, aren't you Hagrid?" Harry asks anxiously, "And you wouldn't tell anyone, would you? Not even one of the teachers?"

"Not a soul knows except me an' Dumbledore," Hagrid beams.

Harry mumbles quietly "Well that's something," before raising his voice "Hagrid, can we have a window open? I'm boiling."

"Can't, Harry, sorry," Hagrid says, glancing to the fireplace. I stand up at the same time as Ron.

"Hagrid – what's that?" Harry asks, sounding as though he already knows the answer.

"Ah... That's er..."

"Where did you get it, Hagrid?" Ron asks in awe, crouching closer to get a better look, "It must've cost you a fortune."

"Won it. Las' night. I was down in the village havin' a few drinks an' got into a game o' cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest."

"But what are you going to do with it when it's hatched?" Hermione asks.

"Well, I've bin doing some readin'," Hagrid says, pulling a book out from under his pillow, "Got this outta the library – Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit – it's a bit outta date, o' course, but it's all in here. Keep the egg in the fire, 'cause their mothers breathe on 'em, see, an' when it hatches, feed it on a bucket o' brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour. En' see here – how ter recognise diff'rent eggs – what I got there's a Norwegian Ridgeback. They're rare, them."

"Hagrid, you live in a wooden house!" I say. Hagrid ignores me, stoking the fire merrily, whilst humming. After a minute or so, the heat becomes unbearable. "I need fresh air," I mumble, staggering outside into the cool evening air. I stand for a few seconds before the others come out. "Lets go..." Harry sighs. We head back up to the castle, and to our mound of homework.

So now we have Hagrid hiding an illegal dragon to worry about, as well as exams, homework, lessons, general life, and the Philosopher's Stone. "I wonder what it's like to have a peaceful life..." Ron groans as we continue through our extra homework. Hermione has started making us study schedules for all of us. It's all driving us insane.

Then, one breakfast, Hedwig brings us all a note from Hagrid. It only has two words written on it. "It's hatching"

Ron wants us all to skip Herbology, but Hermione is strongly against that. "Hermione, how many times are we going to see a dragon hatching?"

"We've got lessons, we'll get into trouble, and that's nothing to what Hagrid's going to be in when someone finds out what he's doing –"

"Shut up!" Harry hisses. Malfoy is only a few feet away from our little argument, and he has stopped dead to listen. We surreptitiously watch him. "How much did he hear?" I ask. They shrug and continue to argue all the way down to Herbology. Eventually, we convince Hermione to run down to the hut with us at morning break, so when the bell goes, we drop our trowels and sprint down the hut where Hagrid greets us, looking flushed.

"It's nearly out," he says excitedly, ushering us inside and sitting us down. The egg is lying on the table. It has deep cracks in, and a funny cracking noise is coming from the inside. We watch with bated breath as a scraping noise emanates, and the egg spits open.

A jet black baby dragon tumbles out onto the table top. I think it's really beautiful. His spiny wings look massive. The long snout has wide nostrils, with stubby horns and orange eyes on his head.

The dragon sneezes, sending out a few tiny sparks. "Isn't he beautiful?" Hagrid murmurs.

"Actually, he is..." I answer, leaning forwards and resting my chin on my arms.

Hagrid reaches out to stroke the dragon, but it snaps at him, showing dangerous fangs. "Bless him, look, he knows his mummy!"

"Hagrid, how fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow?" Hermione asks. Hagrid looks like he about to answer when all the colour drains from his face. He runs to the window and peers out. "What's the matter?"

"Someone was lookin' through the gap in the curtains – it's a kid – he's runnin' back up ter the school."

Harry leaps up and opens the door. I peek out the curtains and spot an unmistakable blonde head. Malfoy. Malfoy has seen the dragon.

Something about Malfoy smirking all through the next week makes us all incredibly nervous. We spend most of our time trying to reason with Hagrid to let him go.

"Just let him go. Set him free," Harry urges.

"I can't. He's too little. He'd die!" Hagrid says weakly.

We glance at the dragon, which has grown three times in length in the last week. Smoke constantly leaks from its nostrils. Empty brandy bottles and chicken feathers litter the floor from his meals.

"I've decided to call him Norbert," Hagrid says with affection, "He really knows me now, watch. Norbert! Where's mummy?"

"He's lost his marbles," Ron mutters.

"Hagrid, give it two weeks and Norbert's going to be as long as your house. Malfoy could go to Dumbledore at any moment!" Harry says loudly. Hagrid looks at us, biting his lip.

"I – I know I can't keep him forever, but I can't jus' dump him, I can't"

Harry turns to Ron, saying "Charlie!"

"You're losing it too. I'm Ron, remember?" Ron says.

"I think he meant your brother, Charlie. The one in Romania who does dragon stuff. We could send Norbert there, where he could be taken care of and released into the wild when he's old enough," I grin, realising Harry's plan.

"Brilliant! How about it, Hagrid?" Ron grins. Finally we convince Hagrid that it's better for him in the wild, and we send Hedwig to Charlie asking him about it.

On Wednesday night, Ron and I borrow Harry's invisibility cloak and head off to Hagrid's to help feed Norbert. "I hate doing this," Ron mumbles, "I hope Charlie replies soon."

We enter Hagrid's hut and start throwing dead rats at the dragon. "Yeh can' jus' throw them at him! Yeh have teh pass them to him! Poor Norbert," Hagrid coos. I notice he's wearing thick leather gloves to feed the thing.

Ron scowls and grabs a rat, offering it to Norbert. The dragon studies him for a minute before snapping down on the rat and Ron's hand. "AHH!" he yells, swiping at the thing. When he gets his hand free, Hagrid hands a handkerchief to him.

"Yeh scared him! It's no wonder he bit yeh," Hagrid says to Ron, quite grumpily.

I begin to reach my limit on how much stupidity I can take from Hagrid. "This beast just bit him, and all you can say is 'you scared him'? This has to stop!" I gesture to the dragon, but don't move my hands fast enough and receive an agonising bite around my hand. Hagrid throws me a handkerchief too, before starting to sing a lullaby.

"Let's go," I mutter to Ron who nods vigorously. With our burning hands clutched tightly against our chest, we slide under the cloak and walk back up to the castle. "I am not doing that again. We've got exams coming up. We have to revise. We won't be able to hold anything for weeks!"

We enter the portrait hole just as a clock chimes midnight. "It bit us!" Ron says furiously. We hold out our hands. "We're not going to be able to hold a quill for a week. I tell you, that dragon's the most horrible animal I've ever met, but the way Hagrid goes on about it, you'd think it was a fluffy little bunny rabbit. When it bit me he told me off for frightening it. And when we left, he was singing it a lullaby."

A tap on the window makes Ron stop ranting.

"It's Hedwig! She'll have Charlie's answer!" Harry lets the snowy owl in. We lean closer to read the note:

Dear Ron,

How are you? Thanks for the letter - I'd be glad to take the Norwegian Ridgeback, but it won't be easy getting him here. I think the best thing will be to send him over with some friends of mine who are coming to visit me next week. Trouble is, they mustn't be seen carrying an illegal dragon.

Could you get the Ridgeback up the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday? They can meet you there and take him away while it's still dark.

Send me an answer as soon as possible.

Love,

Charlie

We look at each other worriedly. "We've got the invisibility cloak," Harry says, "It shouldn't be too difficult – I think the cloak's big enough to cover two of us and Norbert." It shows how bad the last week has been if we're agreeing to this – anything to get rid of the bloody dragon.

However, there is a slight flaw in this plan. By the next morning, both Ron's and my hand have swollen to twice its normal size. I decide to go to Madam Pomfrey instantly, telling her it was a large rat I found in our dormitory. She looks at me suspiciously, but examines the bite. I am immediately given some pyjamas and told to stay here until all the swelling has gone.

In the afternoon, Ron comes in with his bite, looking slightly hysterical. I catch a glimpse of his cut and see that his has turned green. Glancing at mine, I see that the swelling is even worse.

"Uhh... how long is this going to take?" I ask Madam Pomfrey as she passes. She looks at my hand, before saying "It has to get worse before it gets better. By the looks of things, both of you will be in here for the next few nights."

She disappears into her office. "A few days? That means we'll miss tomorrow!" Ron says weakly. I feel my stomach turn over. "I'm going to sleep for a bit. The late nights and the stress has made me tired," I say, leaning back and closing my eyes.

I must have fallen asleep eventually because I wake up when I hear Hermione talking. "It'll all be over at midnight on Saturday," she says soothingly, but I see that it didn't appear to work. I stand up and pad over. "Nice of you to join us," Harry remarks. I grin, but that is quickly wiped off my face when Ron goes pale.

"Midnight on Saturday! Oh no, oh no – I've just remembered – Charlie's letter was in that book Malfoy took, he's going to know we're getting rid of Norbert!"

Harry and Hermione don't get a chance to answer, as Madam Pomfrey chooses that exact moment to tell them to leave because Ron and I need sleep apparently. She shoves me back into bed and flicks the lights out. I roll over and try to ignore the throbbing pain in my hand and the growing nerves in my stomach. However, after an hour or so of lying awake, I drop off into a dreamland full of dragons.

Ron and I wake up the following morning to find our hands burning with pain. Madam Pomfrey gives us a weird smelling cream and some fresh bandages before tending to a second year who has come in with huge pointed ears. I catch the words 'mis-fire', 'charms' and 'not intentional' as I apply the cream. It stings like hell for a few minutes and my eyes water, but then the pain subsides and I wrap it back up. We spend all day in the hospital wing not doing much except reading. Hermione wouldn't forgive us if we didn't revise while our hands feel like they're about to drop off.

That night, after Madam Pomfrey has gone to bed, Ron and I sit up and watch the clock, getting more and more tense as it ticks on to midnight. When it strikes, we take a deep breath and relax. "He's gone... Now they have to get back," Ron mumbles, sliding down and falling asleep. I do the same, not worried anymore. Not really. Except I should be...

When Ron and I leave the hospital wing on Sunday morning, hands not as painful but still bandaged, we head to the Great Hall and find a huge surprise. Gryffindor are down by one hundred and fifty points. We are last. People talk as we pass, talk of how the points were lost. I hear 'Harry Potter' and 'stupid first years' as we reach Harry and Hermione, who look thoroughly miserable.

"What happened?" I ask, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"Malfoy. McGonagall. Filch. Norbert. Hagrid," Harry says listlessly. "We forgot the cloak, it's still up in the Astronomy Tower. Filch caught us and took us to McGonagall who had Malfoy and Neville. She took the points off. Here we are."

I sit back a little. Hermione looks like she's going to cry. Throughout the day, things only get worse for Harry and Hermione. Nobody bothers to keep their voices down when insulting them. Slytherins clap their shoulders as they pass, cheering and whistling. "They'll all forget this in a few weeks," Ron says. "Fred and George have lost loads of points in all the time they've been here, and people still like them."

"They've never lost a hundred and fifty points in one go, though, have they?" Harry says in a depressed tone.

"Well – no..." Ron admits hesitantly.

It is awful in Quidditch practice. When Harry offers to resign from the team in shame, Wood starts yelling at him. The rest of the team only refer to him as 'The Seeker'. As I'm a Chaser, I don't get much of a chance to talk to him. My hand has recovered by now, so I can play properly.

Nothing interesting happens until a week later when Harry runs up to us in the library where Hermione is testing our Astronomy. "And the names of Jupiter's four largest moons are?" she asks.

"Io, Callisto, Europa, Ganymede," I answer confidently. Ron looks down.

"I'm glad you answered that one. If it was me, it would have been Io, Calypso, Europe and Ganyma," Ron frowns.

"Guys, I just heard Quirrell..." Harry starts. He tells us what he heard.

"Snape's done it then," Ron says, "If Quirrell's told him how to break his anti-Dark Force spell –"

"There's still Fluffy though," Hermione counters.

"Maybe Snape's found out how to get past him without asking Hagrid," Ron says, glancing up at the many books around us, "I bet there's a book somewhere in here telling you how to get past a giant three headed dog. So what do we do, Harry?" I can see an adventurous light in Ron's eyes.

"Go to Dumbledore. That's what we should have done ages ago. If we try anything ourselves we'll be thrown out for sure," Hermione says.

"But we've got no proof!" I answer her.

"Quirrell's too scared to back us up. Snape's only got to say he doesn't know how the troll got in at Halloween and that he was nowhere near the third floor – who do you think they'll believe, him or us? It's not exactly a secret we hate him, Dumbledore'll think we made it up to get him sacked. Filch wouldn't help us if his life depended on it, he's too friendly with Snape, and the more students get thrown out, the better, he'll think. And don't forget, we're not supposed to know about the Stone or Fluffy. That'll take a lot of explaining," Harry practically gives us a speech on why we should do nothing.

Hermione looks convinced. I know I am, but Ron isn't. "If we just do a bit of poking around – "

"No," Harry says flatly, "We've done enough poking around." He pulls a map of Jupiter's moons towards him and starts revising. I grab my Standard Book of Spells Grade One and start reading through all the wand movements, practicing with my wand.

It is only when Madam Pince ushers us out of the library at ten o clock that we realise we should be in bed. I pack up my books and help Hermione put the library books away before we trudge up to Gryffindor Tower and to bed.

The next morning, Harry and Hermione receive notes about their detentions. They are to take place at eleven o clock tonight, and they have to meet Filch in the entrance hall.

All day, Harry and Hermione grow more and more depressed. Eventually at half past ten they say goodbye to me and Ron and head out the portrait hole. Ron and I stay up all the way through the evening, revising Defence Against the Dark Arts.

However, we fall asleep before the pair gets back. Hermione shakes me awake while Harry wakes up Ron. He mumbles something about Quidditch fouls before becoming fully coherent. "Have fun in detention?" I ask sleepily. Harry scowls and begins to relay the story. Within ten seconds I am fully awake. Harry paces around, I can see he is still shaking.

"Snape wants the Stone for Voldemort," Harry mutters. I flinch slightly at the name, but ignore it, "and Voldemort's waiting in the forest... and all this time we thought Snape just wanted to get rich.

"Stop saying the name!" Ron whispers.

"Firenze saved me, but he shouldn't have done so... Bane was furious... he was talking about interfering with what the planets say is going to happen... they must show that Voldemort's coming back... Bane thinks Firenze should have let Voldemort kill me... I suppose that's written in the stars as well.

"Will you stop saying the name!" Ron hisses. Harry ignores him.

"So all I've got to wait for now is Snape to steal the Stone. Then Voldemort will be able to come and finish me off... I suppose Bane'll be happy."

Hermione looks terrified, but offers words of comfort "Harry, everyone says Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was ever afraid of. With Dumbledore around, You-Know-Who won't touch you. Anyway, who says the centaurs are right? It sounds like fortune telling to me, and Professor McGonagall says that's a very imprecise branch of magic."

We continue to talk until early morning. With hoarse voices and sore throats, we head to bed. I run through the recent events. We've only just got rid of the worry of Norbert, and now we have to worry about Voldemort? Will we ever get an ordinary, worry-free life?

**So let me know what you think! Leave a review, constructive criticism, or a flame if you want.**

**Next chapter will be up in two days - see you then!**


	11. Chapter 11

**SO, Chapter 11! **

**No reviews or anything for Chapter 10 :( please leave a review this time, and I apologise if I confused you with the re-upload of Chapter 10.**

**so, without any further ado, here is Chapter 11!**

The exams run all the way through the next week. It's stiflingly hot in the classroom where we do all our written papers. We are given special Anti-Cheating quills for the exams, which make my writing neat and clear. I love new quills, there's something about them that I don't know why but it makes me love them so much. Maybe it's because I love new stationary.

We have practical exams as well. For Charms, Professor Flitwick calls us one by one into his classroom to see if we could make a pineapple tapdance across the desk. I think mine goes pretty well. It moves and dances, so in my eyes, it is a success.

In Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall makes us turn a mouse into a snuffbox. More points are added if the snuffbox is pretty, but points are taken away if the snuffbox has whiskers. Mine looks like a snuffbox. It looks relatively pretty. Ergo, it is another success.

The Potions exam is terrifying. Snape breathes down our necks menacingly as we try to remember how to make a Forgetfulness Potion. Ironic really. I manage to cork and place a decent flask at the front of the classroom, though, so I should pass.

Our last exam is History of Magic, which I made sure to revise particularly hard for. It involves a sweltering hot hour of answering questions about weird wizards, goblin rebellions, and new magical inventions, and then we are free for an entire week. Before the exam results come out and we start worrying again.

However, when Professor Binns tells us to put our quills down, we all cheer. "That was far easier than I thought it would be," Hermione remarks as we head out onto the sunny grounds. "I needn't have learned about the 1637 Werewolf Code of Conduct or the uprising of Elfric the Eager." Hermione likes going over papers after, but Ron complains that this makes him feel ill. We flop under a tree near the lake and watch the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan tickle the tentacles of the giant squid.

"No more studying," Ron sighs, "You could look more cheerful, Harry. We've got a week before we find out how badly we've done, there's no need to worry yet."

Harry rubs his forehead worriedly. "I wish I knew what this means! My scar keeps hurting – it's happened before, but never as often as this!" he bursts out.

"Go to Madam Pomfrey," Hermione suggests.

"I'm not ill," Harry mutters, "I think it's a warning... it means danger's coming..."

Ron looks at Harry grumpily – he refuses to get worked up over it "Harry, relax, Hermione's right, the Stone's safe as long as Dumbledore's around. Anyway, we've never had any proof Snape found out how to get past Fluffy. He nearly had his leg ripped off once, he's not going to try it again in a hurry. And Neville will play Quidditch for England before Hagrid lets Dumbledore down."

Harry nods and sits for a minute. Then, he says "I just feel like something's missing – like we've missed something important, or that we've forgotten something."

"That's just the exams. I woke up last night and was half way through my Transfiguration notes before I remembered we'd done that one," Hermione grins.

We lie under the tree for a peaceful minute before Harry leaps up. "What?" I mumble, looking up and blinding myself with the sunlight.

"Where're you going?" Ron asks sleepily.

"I've just thought of something. We've got to go and see Hagrid, now," Harry says, completely white.

We sprint to the hut, "Why?" Hermione pants.

"Don't you think it's a bit odd that what Hagrid wants more than anything else is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have an egg in his pocket? How many people wander around with dragon eggs if it's against wizard law? Lucky they found Hagrid, don't you think? Why didn't I see it before?" Harry shouts over his shoulder as we approach the hut.

"What are you talking about?" Ron asks, but Harry doesn't answer as we see Hagrid. He's sitting in an armchair outside his house, trousers and sleeves rolled up, shelling peas into a bowl.

"Hullo," he smiles, "Finished yer exams? Got time fer a drink?"

"Yes please," Ron begins, but Harry cuts him off.

"No, we're in a hurry. Hagrid, I've got to ask you something. You know that night you won Norbert? What did the stranger you were playing cards with look like?"

"Dunno," Hagrid says casually, "he wouldn' take his cloak off."

We exchange stunned looks. "It's not that unusual. Yeh get a lot o' funny folk in the Hog's Head – that's the pub down in the village. Mighta bin a dragon dealer, mightn' he? I never saw his face, he kept his hood up."

We sink down next to the bowl of peas. "What did you talk to him about, Hagrid? Did you mention Hogwarts at all?"

"Mighta come up," Hagrid frowns "Yeah... he asked about what I did, an' I told him I was gamekeeper here... He asked a bit about the sort of creatures I look after... so I told him... an' I said what I'd always really wanted was a dragon... an' then... I can' remember too well, 'cause he kept buyin' me drinks... Let's see... yeah, he said he had the dragon egg an' we could play cards fer it if I wanted... but he had ter be sure I could handle it, he didn' want it ter go ter any old home... So I told him, after Fluffy, a dragon would be easy..."

"And did he – did he seem interested in Fluffy?" Harry asks. I detect a slight waver in his voice.

"Well – yeah – how many three headed dogs d'yeh meet, even around Hogwarts? So I told him, Fluffy's a piece o' cake if yeh know how to calm him down, jus' play him a bit o' music an' he'll go straight off ter sleep –"

Suddenly, Hagrid looks completely horrified. "I shouldn'ta told yeh that! Forget I said it! Hey – where're yeh goin'?"

We shoot up and sprint to the school not talking until we reach the entrance hall. It seems cold and gloomy in comparison with outside. "We've got to go to Dumbledore," Harry says, "Hagrid told that stranger how to get past Fluffy, and it was either Snape or Voldemort under that cloak – it must've been easy, once he'd got Hagrid drunk. I just hope Dumbledore believes us. Firenze might back us up if Bane doesn't stop him. Where's Dumbledore's office"

We look around, as though hoping to spot a sign pointing us in the right direction. Having never been to Dumbledore's office, we have no idea where to go. "We'll just have to –"

"What are you four doing inside?" Professor McGonagall's voice rings out across the hall. We turn around and see her carrying a pile of books.

"We want to see Professor Dumbledore," Hermione says, quite boldly in my opinion.

"See Professor Dumbledore? Why?" Professor McGonagall suspiciously.

"It's sort of secret," Harry says. I cringe inwardly at this decision, and it seems that everyone else is too, because Professor McGonagall's nostrils flare dangerously.

"Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago," she says, "He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and flew off for London at once."

"He's gone? Now?" says Harry frantically.

"Professor Dumbledore is a very great wizard, Potter, he has many demands on his time-"

"But this is important!" I say urgently.

"Something you have to say is more important than the Ministry of Magic, Miss White?"

"Look," Harry says bravely and recklessly, "Professor – it's about the Philosopher's Stone—"

Professor McGonagall is obviously not expecting this. She drops all the books she is carrying, but makes no move to pick them up again. "How do you know –?"

"Professor, I think – I know- that Sn-someone's going to try and steal the stone. I've got to talk to Professor Dumbledore," Harry says.

Professor McGonagall eyes us. "Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow. I don't know how you found out about the Stone, but rest assured, no one can possibly steal it, it's too well protected."

"But Professor—"

"Potter, I know what I'm talking about. I suggest you all go back outside and enjoy the sunshine," she says, leaning down and picking up her books.

However, we don't go back outside. As soon as Professor McGonagall is out of earshot, Harry says, "Snape's going through that trapdoor tonight. He's found out everything he needs, and now he's got Dumbledore out of the way. He sent that note, I bet the Ministry of Magic will get a real shock when Dumbledore turns up."

"But what can we –" I begin to say, but Hermione cuts me off with a gasp. We shoot around. Snape is standing right behind us. I start and leap back. "Good afternoon," Snape says smoothly.

We merely stare at him. _How much did he hear?_ I think worriedly. "You shouldn't be inside on a day like this," says Snape, with a strange twisted smile.

"We were –" Harry begins, but he stops quite quickly.

"You want to be more careful," Snape says, "Hanging around like this, people will think you're up to something. And Gryffindor can't really afford to lose more points, can it?"

We all flush bright red. We turn around to go outside, but Snape calls us back. "Be warned, Potter – any more night time wanderings and I will personally make sure you are expelled. Good day to you."

We run out onto the stone steps and sit down.

"Right, here's what we've got to do. One of us has got to keep an eye on Snape – wait outside the staffroom and follow him if he leaves it. Hermione and Avery, you'd better do that," Harry says.

"Why us?"

"It's obvious. You can pretend to be waiting for Professor Flitwick, you know," Ron says. He puts on a high pitched voice as an imitation of us, "Oh Professor Flitwick, I'm so worried, I think I got question fourteen b wrong..."

"Oh, shut up," Hermione and I snap at the same time. However, we agree to tail Snape.

"And we'd better stay outside the third floor corridor," Harry says to Ron. "Come on."

Hermione and I walk off to the staffroom and stand outside. However, no sooner than a minute later, Snape himself walks out. "What are you two doing?" he asks in a dangerous voice.

"We- We're waiting for Professor Flitwick. We wanted to ask him about our test results," Hermione says in a high pitched nervous voice.

"I will fetch Professor Flitwick for you," Snape says in the same voice. He walks back into the staffroom.

"Oh, crap," I whisper. We bolt off without a further word, terrified and not stopping until we reach the portrait hole. We climb through and see Harry and Ron already there. "We're sorry Harry!" Hermione wails, "Snape came out and asked us what we were doing, so we said we were waiting for Flitwick, and Snape went to get him and we only just got away, we don't know where Snape went."

"Well, that's it then, isn't it?" Harry says. We stare at him. He's strangely pale, and his eyes are glittering. "I'm going out of here tonight, and I'm going to try and get to the Stone first."

"You're mad," Ron says.

"You're insane," I say directly after.

"You can't!" Hermione says, "After what McGonagall and Snape have said? You'll be expelled!"

"SO WHAT?!" Harry roars, "Don't you understand? If Snape gets hold of the Stone, Voldemort's coming back! Haven't you heard what it was like when he was trying to take over? There won't be a Hogwarts to get expelled from! He'll flatten it, or turn it into a school for the Dark Arts! Losing points doesn't matter anymore, can't you see? D'you think he'll leave you and your families alone if Gryffindor wins the house cup? If I get caught before I can get to the Stone, well, I'll have to go back to the Dursleys and wait for Voldemort to find me there, it's only dying a bit later than I could have, because I'm never going over to the Dark Side! I'm going through that trapdoor tonight and nothing you two say is going to stop me! Voldemort killed my parents, remember?" He finishes his rant and glares at us. Both me and Hermione have tears in our eyes, and Ron is completely white.

"You're right, Harry," Hermione says in a small voice.

"I'll use the invisibility cloak. It's just lucky I got it back," Harry says.

"But will it cover all four of us?" Ron asks.

"All – all four of us?"

"Oh, come off it, you don't think we'd let you go alone?" I ask him, "I you do, then you truly are insane."

"Of course not," Hermione says briskly, "How do you think you'd get to the Stone without us? I'd better go and look through my books, there might be something useful..."

"But if we get caught, you three will be expelled too," says Harry worriedly.

"Not if I can help it. Flitwick told me in secret that I got a hundred and twelve percent on his exam. They're not throwing me out after that," Hermione says grimly. I stare at her in shock.

"Damn it!" I exclaim, "I only got a hundred and five percent! You beat me!" Harry, Ron and Hermione raise their eyebrows in unison. "What?"

After dinner, we sit nervously in the common room. I sit and draw the Gryffindor lion. Hermione skims through her notes looking for something useful. As the room empties, we move closer together. "Better get the cloak," Ron mutters as Lee Jordan finally leaves. Harry dashes away and returns holding a wooden flute and his invisibility cloak.

"We'd better put the cloak on here, and make sure it covers all four of us – if Filch spots one of out feet wandering along on its own –"

"What are you doing?" Neville voice echoes from the corner. I scream slightly and jump back.

"Will people stop DOING that?"

"Nothing, Neville, nothing," Harry says hurriedly, hiding the cloak.

"You're going out again," Neville says, watching us.

"No, no, no," Hermione says, " No, we're not. Why don't you go to bed, Neville?"

"You can't go out, you'll be caught again. Gryffindor will be in even more trouble," Neville says quickly.

"You don't understand, this is important!" Harry sighs. However, Neville looks like he's about to do something desperate.

"I won't let you do it," he says, rushing to stand in front of the portrait hole, "I'll – I'll fight you!"

"Neville," Ron explodes, "Get away from that hole and don't be an idiot-"

"Don't you call me an idiot! I don't think you should be breaking any more rules! And you were the one who told me to stand up to people!"

"Yes, but not to us! Neville, you don't know what you're doing."

Ron takes a step forwards. Neville drops his toad and raises his fists. "Go on then, try and hit me! I'm ready!"

"Hermione, do something!" Harry says desperately.

Hermione step forwards. "Neville, we're really, really sorry about this," she says.

"Petrificus Totalus!" she shouts, pointing her wand at Neville. Neville's arms fly to his sides, his legs snap together and his entire body goes rigid. He sways on the spot before falling flat on his face, stiff as a board.

"What've you done to him?" Harry asks.

"It's the full Body Bind," Hermione says, "Oh, Neville, I'm so sorry!"

"We had to, Neville, no time to explain," Harry says sadly,

"You'll understand later, Neville," Ron mutters as we pass. We slide the invisibility cloak on and check to see if our feet show and head out the portrait hole. At the first set of stairs, we encounter Mrs Norris. "Oh let's kick her. Just this once," Ron practically begs. Harry shakes his head and we climb around her. As we pass her, Ron steps on my foot. "Ouch! Ron, that was my foot!" I whisper yell in his ear. Mrs Norris turns her yellow eyes onto us.

We don't encounter anyone else until we reach the third floor, where we spot Peeves loosening the carpet so that people will trip. "Who's there?" he looks up suddenly. "Know you're there, even if I can't see you. Are you ghoulie or ghostie or wee student beastie?"

The poltergeist squints into thin air. "Should call Filch, I should, if something's a-creeping around unseen."

Harry suddenly starts talking, "Peeves," he begins in a hoarse whisper, "the Bloody Baron has his own reasons for being invisible..."

I watch Peeves almost fall out of the air in shock and resist the urge to laugh. "So sorry, your bloodiness, Mr Baron, Sir," Peeves says greasily, "My mistake, my mistake – I didn't see you – of course, I didn't, you're invisible, - forgive old Peevsie his little joke, sir."

"I have business here, Peeves. Stay away from this place tonight," Harry croaks.

"I will, sir, I most certainly will," Peeves grins, rising up into the air, "Hope your business goes well, Baron, I'll not bother you." He scoots off.

"Genius!" I laugh.

"Brilliant, Harry!" whispers Ron.

A few seconds later, we are outside the third floor corridor. The door is already ajar. I feel my heart drop to my stomach. "Well there you are," Harry says, "Snape's already got past Fluffy."

Harry turns to us. "If you want to go back, I won't blame you. You can take the cloak. I won't need it now."

"Bloody hell, Harry, you really are insane," I remark.

"Don't be stupid," Ron says.

"We're coming," insists Hermione. Harry smiles and pushes the door open. Immediately, three wildly sniffing noses swing in our direction. It heads forwards slightly, even though it can't see us.

"What's that at its feet?" Hermione asks. I look and spot a harp.

"Looks like a harp. Snape must've left it there," Ron says.

"It must wake up the moment when you stop playing," Harry guesses, "Well, here goes."

He raises the flute to his lips and plays a basic tune. Immediately the dog's eyes begin to droop and within a minute it is fast asleep. "Keep playing," Ron mutters as we slide out of the cloak. We can feel the hot breath from its noses as we creep towards the trapdoor. "I think we'll be able to pull the door open," says Ron.

"Want to go first, Hermione?"

"No, I don't!"

"I will," I say on a spur of the moment brave thingy. The three stare at me in shock.

"I was going to, but okay then," Ron says, holding the trapdoor open for me. I lower myself into the hole and swallow.

"Can you see any way to get down?" Hermione asks. I glance downwards and swing my legs around.

"Umm... no. I think we'll have to drop," I wince and edge forwards until I'm using upper body strength to hold myself up.

"Count me down?" I ask.

"Three..." Harry says, taking a break from the flute. In the small silence, the dog growls and twitches.

"Two..." Hermione says.

"One," Ron says.

"Go," I say, letting go. A scream tears itself from my mouth, and suddenly, I land on something soft. I sit up and groan, the impact slightly painful. "Are you okay?" Hermione calls down.

"Yeah! It's a soft landing, some sort of plant, I think," I call up. A few seconds later, I hear another gap in the music as Harry leaps down, gasping when he hits the plant. Hermione takes the flute and continues to play.

"Ron, your turn!" I shout. Ron jumps, leaving Hermione up in the corridor.

"Hermione!" Harry shouts. The flute stops playing, and a bark can be heard from the dog, but Hermione jumps before it can do anything. "What's this stuff?" Ron asks.

"Dunno, some sort of plant thing. I suppose it's here to break the fall."

"We must be miles under the school," Hermione says once she's recovered from the fall.

"Lucky this plant thing's here, really," Ron grins.

"Lucky?!" shrieks Hermione, "Look at you three!"

I glance down at my form. I am still sitting down, my eyes have only just adjusted to the gloom. Then, I feel a tight constricting feeling on my ankles. I attempt to pull away, but it gets tighter. The feeling spreads up my legs and begins to cut off the blood supply.

Hermione scrambles up, having managed to free herself, and watches in horror as we struggle to get out of the plant's grip. The more we strain, the faster it winds itself around us. "Stop moving! I know what this is – it's Devil's Snare!" Hermione says.

"Oh, I'm so glad we know what it's called. That's a great help!" Ron snarls, leaning back as far as he can go. I free my hands and grapple with a tendril that's fighting to curl around my neck.

"Shut up, I'm trying to remember how to kill it!" Hermione shouts.

I lose my battle with the tendril and it wraps around my neck. "Well, hurry up, I can't breathe!" Harry chokes. I relax as much as is feasibly possible in this position as Hermione says "Devil's Snare, Devil's Snare... what did Professor Sprout say? It likes the damp and dark..."

"SO LIGHT A FIRE!" I roar, panicking slightly.

"Yes – of course – but there's no wood!" Hermione cringes.

"HAVE YOU GONE MAD?" bellows Ron, "ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?"

"Oh, right!" Hermione whips out her wand and mutters something, which sends a jet of the bluebell coloured flame at the plant. IN seconds, it shrivels up and we are able to wriggle free of it.

"Lucky you pay attention in Herbology, Hermione," Harry gasps as we join Hermione by the wall.

"Yeah. And lucky Avery doesn't lose her head in a crisis – 'there's no wood', honestly," Ron shakes his head.

"This way," Harry points to a stone passageway. We edge along the wall, away from the Devil's Snare, and head down it. The only sound other than our ragged breathing and footsteps is dripping water. The passage slopes downwards. "Can you hear something?" Ron whispers. We stop moving and hold our breath. I can just make out the sound of whooshing and clinking from ahead.

"Do you think it's a ghost?" Harry asks.

"I don't know... sounds like wings to me," I answer.

"There's light ahead – I can see something moving," Hermione squints. We reach the end of the passage and turn into a brilliantly lit chamber, ceiling arched high above our heads. On the opposite side of the room is a giant door. Between us and the door are a million jewelled birds.

"Do you think they'll attack us if we cross the room?" asks Ron nervously.

"Probably," Harry says, "They don't look very vicious, but I suppose if they all swooped down at once... well, there's no other choice... I'll run." He covers his head with his arms and sprints across the chamber. We all breathe an audible sigh of relief as the birds do nothing. As Harry reaches the door, he pulls on the handle. We run across and tug on the door. "It's locked!" Hermione tries Alohomora but even that doesn't work.

"Now what?" Ron sighs.

"These birds... they can't be here just for decoration..." Hermione says slowly.

"They're not birds!" Harry says, "They're keys! Winged keys- look carefully. So that must mean..." He looks around the chamber. I narrow my eyes. "... yes, look! Broomsticks! We've got to catch the key to the door!"

I spy a set of broomsticks. "But there are hundreds of them!"

Ron examines the lock on the door. "We're looking for a big old fashioned one – probably silver, like the handle."

We each grab a broomstick and mount up, attempting to spot the key we want in amongst the flock. "It's hopeless!" I yell.

"That one!" Harry says, almost immediately after me, "That big one – there – no, there – with bright blue wings – the feathers are all crumpled on one side!"

Ron heads off in the direction Harry points in and crashes into the ceiling. I mask my snort as a sneeze as Ron scowls. "We've got to close in on it," Harry calls, "Ron, you come at it from above – Hermione, stay below and stop it from going down. Avery, block it from the side opposite me and I'll try to catch it. Right, NOW!" I zoom into position and head forwards as Ron dives and Hermione rockets upwards.

The key dodges Hermione and Ron, smacks into my cheek and bounces off, speeding along the wall. Harry shoots towards it and pins it against the wall with a nasty crunching sound. Our cheers echo in the huge chamber. Quickly, we land and run to the door, me with a hand pressed against my cheek. Harry pushes the key into the lock and it clicks. As the door wings open, Harry releases the key, which flops away, looking battered after being caught twice.

"Is your cheek okay?" Hermione asks me anxiously. I laugh a little at the odd way of gaining this injury and say "Yeah, I'm good. I have to say, I'm looking forwards to having a key shaped bruise."

The three laugh along with me as we approach the next room. Its pitch black, but as we step in, lights come on to reveal a giant chess board. We stand behind the black pieces, all of which are taller than us, even the pawns. The white pieces are opposite us, and have no faces. "This is actually really creepy..." I mumble.

"Now what do we do?" Harry asks.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Ron says, "We've got to play our way across the room."

I glance behind the white chess pieces and see another door. "I think we're going to have to be chess men." Ron nods and walks up to a black knight, pressing his hand against the horse's neck. The piece springs to life.

"Do we – er – have to join you to get across?" Ron asks awkwardly. The knight nods, and Ron turns to look at us.

"This needs thinking about," he says. "I suppose we've got to take the place of four of the black pieces." We watch Ron think for a minute. "Now, don't be offended or anything, but only Avery is any good at chess –"

"We're not offended," Harry cuts him off, "Just tell us what to do."

"Well, Harry, you take the place of that bishop, Hermione, you go next to him instead of that castle."

"What about us?" I ask. Ron thinks for another minute.

"We're going to be a knight.." As if the chess pieces are listening, they leave the board and stand at the side. Ron and I clamber onto the horse of the leaving knight. "Why couldn't I have my own piece?" I ask.

"Because there's less of a risk if there's less players."

"Oh. Makes sense."

"White always plays first in chess... Yes, look..." Ron says, pointing at the other side. A white pawn moves forwards two spaces.

Ron and I direct the black pieces. We get a real shock when our other knight is taken. The white queen smashes him into the floor and drags him off the board where he lies, face down and unmoving.

"Had to let that happen," Ron says shakily, "Leaves you free to take their bishop, Hermione, go on."

Each time one of the white pieces is lost, their side shows no mercy. Numerous times, Ron and I only just realise that Harry and Hermione are in danger, and we get the horse to zip around the board and take pieces.

"We're nearly there," I mumble.

"Let me think... let me think..." Ron stares around the board. The queen slowly, ominously, turns her blank face towards us.

"Yes... it's the only way," Ron says softly.

"We've got to be taken," I finish his thought.

"NO!" Harry and Hermione yell.

"That's chess.! You've got to make some sacrifices! We take one step forward and she'll take us – that leaves you free to checkmate the king, Harry!"

"But—"

"Do you want to stop Snape or not!" I shout.

"Avery—"

"Look, if you don't hurry up, he'll already have the Stone!" Ron calls. Harry and Hermione accept it resignedly.

"Ready?" Ron asks. I nod. "Here we go. Now, don't hang around once you've won."

"Let's go." We nudge the horse onwards. The queen pounces on us and strikes the horse out from under us. I hit the floor hard, Ron lands heavily next to me. Hazily I see him pass out, and I struggle to sit up and drag him over to the edge where the other black players are.

Harry moves three spaces to the left and checkmates the king. The remaining pieces bow and part. "I'll stay with him, guys. You two go on. Good luck!" I call out to them. They nod and sprint to the door. The pieces remain where they are except the three we called off earlier. Those three come and stand around us as a protective border while the white pieces wake up and resume positions.

After five minutes I manage to bring Ron around. "Ugh... did they win?" he asks blearily. I nod.

"Avery, you're bleeding!" Ron says. He points at my forehead. I press my fingers to it.

"Ha! I hadn't even noticed. So I am!" I start to laugh. It seems so absurd. We both end up in a full laughing fit until Hermione comes over and snaps us out of it. "We need to go to the Owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore. Harry's gone to fight Snape," she says. We stand up and thank the black pieces who nod and head to their positions on the board.

Sprinting back through the tunnels, we grab broomsticks from the room with the flying keys and shoot along. When we reach the Devil's Snare room, Hermione casts another flame to get it to recoil, and we fly upwards, at a ninety degree angle, bursting through the trapdoor and surprising Fluffy so much he leaves us alone. Outside the door, we drop the brooms. "We'll have to head down, through the entrance hall and outside, then up the outer stairs and to the Owlery," I say quickly. They nod, and we hurtle down the stairs.

As we reach the entrance hall, we have to dig our heels into the floor to slow down in order to not bump into a figure. It's Dumbledore. He looks at us urgently and says "Harry's gone after him, hasn't he?" We only just have time to nod before he dashes off, presumably to the third floor.

We stand for a minute. "What now?" I ask.

"I guess we should go to the hospital wing... just to make sure..." Hermione says, eyeing Ron who looks a bit dazed.

We head up, much to the surprise of Madam Pomfrey. She gives me a cloth to put on my forehead and shines her wand in Ron's eyes. "Mild concussion, nothing a good sleep won't fix," she says. We nod and head out of the entrance hall, back up to the third floor to wait for Dumbledore. After about ten minutes, he appears, with Harry floating along behind him. "I arrived just in time. I suggest you three go to bed, seeing as he won't wake up for a little while," Dumbledore says, a slight relieved and friendly twinkle in his eyes.

We nod and reluctantly go to bed,relieved to the point of disbelief. We clamber into bed for the remaining night and sleep deeply, grateful for the night's adventures to be over.

**So let me know what you think! And if anyone interpreted that chapter wrong, no, there is no romance between Avery and Ron. That is just friendship :D**

**Chapter 12 will be up soon! I think this is the penultimate chapter, so next will be the end of Year One! **


	12. Chapter 12

**Okay, this is it! The final chapter... Woo! I genuinely never thought I would be able to keep focused enough to write an entire story! And finish it!**

**Thanks to September And Summer for reviewing! Check out September's stories, guys!**

**And on with the final chapter! It's a bit shorter than usual, but here it is!**

* * *

Over the next two days we hardly leave Harry's bedside in the hospital wing. Many people stop by and give him some sweets. A pile of sugary stuff steadily grows. We would stay throughout the night, but Madam Pomfrey insists we need sleep as well.

On the third day, we aren't allowed in. So we wait outside. Dumbledore himself heads inside for about an hour or so, before leaving. Madam Pomfrey opens the door after he leaves, looking quite grumpy.

"HARRY!" Hermione squeals, running forwards and looking like she is about to fling her arms around him. "Oh Harry, we were sure you were going to – Dumbledore was so worried-"

"The whole school's talking about it. What really happened?" Ron asks seriously.

Harry tells the story. It is much better than rumours make it out to be. When Harry tells us what was under Quirrell's ("We thought it was Snape!" Ron says, sounding disappointed) turban, Hermione screams out loud.

"So the Stone's gone?" Ron asks, "Flamel's just going to die?"

"That's what I said, but Dumbledore thinks that – what was it? – to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure."

"I always said he was off his rocker!" Ron grins.

"So what happened to you three?"

"Well, I got back alright," Hermione says.

"I brought Ron back around – that took a while," I interrupt.

"We were dashing up to the Owlery to contact Dumbledore when we met him in the entrance hall – he already knew – he just said 'Harry's gone after him, hasn't he?' and hurtled off to the third floor."

"D'you think he meant you to do it?" Ron says, "Sending you your father's cloak and everything?"

"Well, if he did – I mean to say that's terrible – you could have been killed!" Hermione explodes.

"No, it isn't," says Harry thoughtfully, "He's a funny man, Dumbledore. I reckon he sort of wanted to give me a chance. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know. I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to help. I don't think it was an accident he let me find out how the mirror worked. It's almost like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort if I could..."

"Yeah, Dumbledore's off his rocker, alright," Ron smirks, "Listen, you've got to be up for the end of year feast tomorrow. The points are all in and Slytherin won, of course – you missed the last Quidditch match, we were steamrollered by Ravenclaw without you – and Avery told Wood she was feeling sick and didn't play to stay here – but the food'll be good." At that moment, Madam Pomfrey bustles over "You've had nearly fifteen minutes, now OUT!"

The next day at the feast, Gryffindors are cheerful despite the green banners that hang around the hall around us. We save a seat for Harry, who walks in about two minutes later. As he walks down the hall, the chatter dies down, before everyone starts talking at once. By the time he reaches the table, Harry looks extremely annoyed and embarrassed. He sits down between me and Ron, just as Dumbledore stands up to talk. "Another year gone!" he says cheerfully, "And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were... you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty again before next year starts..."

He pauses a minute and surveys us all "Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: IN fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty two; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty six and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy two."

A huge uproar of stamping and cheering breaks out from the Slytherin table. I spot Malfoy slamming his goblet on the table.

"Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin," Dumbledore smiles, "However, recent events must be taken into account."

The room goes very quiet and very still in a second. I am glad to see that the Slytherin's smiles have faded.

"Ahem. I still have a few last minute points to dish out. Let me see... Yes," Dumbledore surveys us again. "First – to Mr Ronald Weasley and Miss Avery White..." I feel my stomach drop and my face burn. "... for the best played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

The cheers from the Gryffindor table seem to raise the roof. All around me is people shouting, clapping me on the back. Ron has turned an amazing shade of purple, a bit like a sunburned radish. "Second – to Miss Hermione Granger... for the use of cool logic in the face of fire... I award Gryffindor house fifty points." Hermione buries her face in her arms. I suspect she's in tears.

Gryffindors all along the table are completely wild. We're a hundred points up!

"Third – to Mr Harry Potter... for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor House sixty points." The din that follows this sentence is unbelievable. I know for sure that tomorrow I will have a headache and earache. "We're tied with Slytherin!" I shriek. Hermione hugs me, her eyes rimmed with red from the tears.

Dumbledore puts his hand up for silence. "There are all kinds of courage. It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much courage to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr Neville Longbottom."

Anyone outside the hall would have thought an explosion took place as we all stand up and roar in triumph. Neville is completely white. We all stand up and pat him on the back. "Which means we need a little change of decoration!" Dumbledore smiles, clapping his hands. The green Slytherin banners and serpents flash and change to the red and gold Gryffindor lion.

I watch Snape shake Professor McGonagall's hand, an awful sour smile on his face. It's by far one of the best nights of my life.

I manage to forget about the exam results that have yet to come, but when they do, I am greatly pleased that I get good marks. My best subjects are Charms, Transfiguration and Astronomy, and my worst subjects are Herbology, Potions and History of Magic. Harry and Ron get good marks too, and Hermione gets the best marks in the year of course. Even Crabbe and Goyle scraped through. We hoped they wouldn't, but as Ron says, "You can't have everything in life."

Extremely quickly, our trunks are packed, our wardrobes are empty. I decide to give Cracker to Hagrid to look after, seeing as he'll be better off at Hogwarts. Notes are handed out to us, warning us not to do magic at home. Soon, it's the end of the year. Hagrid takes us by boat to the train station. Harry, Ron, Hermione and I get a compartment to ourselves, and wave to Hagrid as the train pulls away.

As the wild countryside turns urban, we change out of our robes. I pull some jeans and a hoodie on and grab Sooty's cage as we pull into the Station.

We head through the barrier in a four, allowed through by an old guard, and Ron says "You must come and stay this summer. All of you – I'll send you an owl."

"Thanks, I'll need something to look forward to," Harry says as people jostle us around.

A couple of people say goodbye to Harry. "Still famous," I grin.

"Not where I'm going, I promise you," Harry says.

"There he is Mum, there he is! Look!" A ginger haired blur shoots forwards.

"Ginny, my sister," Ron mutters in my ear.

"Harry Potter!" she squeaks, "Look, Mum! I can see him!"

"Be quiet, Ginny, it's rude to point," Mrs Weasley smiles at us, "Busy year?"

"Very, thanks for the fudge and the jumper, Mrs Weasley," Harry grins.

"Oh, me too!" I add.

"Oh, it was nothing."

"Ready are you?" a beefy man with a moustache strides forwards. He looks at Harry.

"You must be Harry's family!" Mrs Weasley says cheerfully.

"IN a manner of speaking. Hurry up, boy, we haven't got all day." The man strides away again. I spot a very skinny woman and a large boy running after him.

"See you over the summer, then," Harry says, hugging us.

"Hope you have – er – a good holiday," Hermione says uncertainly.

"Oh, I will," Harry laughs, we are surprised at his grin, "They don't know we're not allowed to use magic at home. I'm going to have a lot of fun with Dudley this summer..."

And with that, he pushes his trolley off after the trio. "Come on, Ron, we have to get back home now," Mrs Weasley calls.

"Don't forget that owl," I remind our ginger friend. He nods and hugs both of us before following his Mum.

"I'll see you later, Avery," Hermione smiles, hugging me. She too heads off after her family. I am left to search for mine in the rapidly emptying station. Finally, "AVERY! OVER HERE!" I hear Dad bellow. I laugh and push my trolley over to my family.

"Have a good year?" Mum asks me.

"Oh, definitely. I fought three headed dogs, a giant chess set, played Catch the Flying Key and helped Harry Potter defeat Lord Voldemort," I smirk. They merely laugh at me as we head to the car, and to home for a much needed rest.

**So... That's it! The first chapter of the next story won't be up for another few weeks... Keep an eye out for Avery White - Year Two!**


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